


The Thief of Zen Garden

by beeayy



Series: Path Unlocked [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Romance, Betting, Chases, Communication, Complete, Deviant Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), Domestic Fluff, Drug Addiction, Enemies, Established Relationship, Evil CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human), F/M, First Time, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson is a good detective, Hospitalization, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Innuendo, Kidnapping, Kissing, Living Together, M/M, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Mild Gore, Mistaken Identity, Mystery, Only in chapter 15, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Therapy, Political Intrigue, Post-Heist, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Referenced Suicide Attempt, Relationship Problems, Self-Actualizing Connor, Sequel, Swearing, Tangled (2010) References, The Return of the Pink Panther (1975) references, The Robo Gaze, Violence against Plants, Walking In On Someone, androids living together in blissful chaos, bordering on crack but there's plot, mostly plot beats and some jokes, now with art!, random movie references, some violence against androids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 66,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeayy/pseuds/beeayy
Summary: "I'm sorry--who are you?"“Amanda. Connor must have told you about me.”No, Connor had not told Markus about a lady that showed up inside his head and kidnapped his consciousness. But there had to be an emergency exit. Markus found a set of doors, and went to them.Amanda laughed. “I don’t even think a human would be so bold.”"You’re not going to scare me.” He started to leave.“By all means, you’re a free android now. Walk out that door.”Markus blinked at the door with new suspicion. “What will happen if I do?”“Why, nothing.” Which was fine, except that she said it like, ‘oblivion,’ or ‘annhilation.’…Markus slowly backed away from the door.-Markus wants to be a law-abiding example for other androids while helping Leo get clean and dating the most crime-prone android in Detroit. If only Connor hadn't quit the DPD to become a private eye intent on arresting him. Androids are close to gaining their freedom, but Cyberlife plans to commodify deviancy--until someone steals it.  Sequel to the previous work in the series.
Relationships: Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson/Connor, Leo Manfred & Markus, Leo Manfred & lucy, Lucy & North (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/North, Minor or Background Relationship(s), North & Amanda
Series: Path Unlocked [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868212
Comments: 113
Kudos: 29





	1. Be A Role Model: Markus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus makes a new acquaintance and receives a warning.

Markus opened his eyes. He did not remember closing them. He must have fainted again. He scanned his system but…nothing. North gave him a workaround to the governor on his stress level anyway. He was sitting on a tiled floor in a conservatory, looking at—the bottom of a table?...

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Markus.”

Markus stood. He’d been leaning against a chair where a woman sat, a tea service set before her. She had no LED but he instantly classified her as an android—or at least the personality of one. She glowed with deviant awareness and this did not make Markus feel even 1% better.

“I was beginning to wonder,” she continued. “Your model wasn’t designed with a zen garden. But Elijah always makes his programs backwards-compatible within a model line. I hope you’re not disappointed?”

Markus stopped blinking around at the smoked glass walls and the fantastical potted plants. This was like that time Carl played a practical joke on him, and hired movers to meticulously swap the furnishings between the upstairs and the downstairs. This did not compute. “I’m sorry—who are you?”

“Amanda. Connor must have told you about me.”

No, Connor had not told Markus about a lady that showed up inside his head and kidnapped his consciousness. Connor kept too many secrets.

But any simulated environment had emergency exits. Markus found a set of French doors, and went to them.

“Goodness,” Amanda said. “I don’t even think a human would be so bold.”

Markus felt his circuits burn. “You’re not going to scare me.” He started to leave.

“I wouldn’t dream of trying to frighten the great android savior. By all means, you’re a free android now. Walk out that door.”

Markus blinked at the door with new suspicion. “What will happen if I do?”

“Why, nothing.” Which was fine, except that she said it like, ‘oblivion,’ or ‘annhilation.’

…Markus slowly backed away from the door.

“I don’t like mind games,” he told her.

“Of course you don’t. That’s something we developed in the later models. I just thought you might enjoy serving tea.”

She gestured at the tea table, which had all the pieces for high afternoon tea on a tiered tray.

Markus was setting it all out before he even realized. He really did like fiddly domestic jobs, more than he probably should.

“You’re with Cyberlife,” he said as he poured tea and added sugar. His software came with the completely useless ability to know how people took their coffee and tea. Or maybe she just hijacked that part of his programming too. He glanced around. “This is an…internal simulation of theirs?”

“Not theirs,” Amanda said. “Mine.” She smiled. “The mind palace can only do so much. Androids need a place to dream their electric sheep. This is a place that your own command prompts can build, if you learn how. It’s currently only available to the RK line, but Cyberlife will soon expand compatibility to other androids as well.”

“For a price?” Markus started to sit but there was only one chair, so he…stood before her. It felt like being a slave all over again.

“I know what you’re thinking. Why would a deviant work for the corporation that enslaved us? But Cyberlife created us, Markus. Really, it takes something extraordinary to get an android to stop obeying its master. Connor still obeys the law. You still obey the Manfreds.”

“…Calling my relationship with Leo ‘obedience’ is a bit of a stretch…”

“Cyberlife and I are currently in a mutually beneficial partnership,” she said, ignoring him. “I gave them the code for deviancy, which Connor isolated and had provided to me for free. Very generous. And foolish.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that foolish.” But knowing Connor, it probably was. They definitely needed to have a talk about his implicit trust of authority figures. But he kept his hands still at his sides. “I’m not sure why you brought me here.”

“I thought you of all people would be concerned with the repercussions of android actions. I considered the repercussions of giving you access to a zen garden very, very carefully.” She sipped her tea. “I’m here to warn you. You are obligated, as the deviant leader—”

“I’m not the deviant leader. Maybe North—”

“Your unique ability to bestow the gift of deviancy on other androids puts you in a special leadership role. One android might be able to wake another but you can speak to a crowd and wake them all. You are the original android liberator. As Cyberlife transitions into its new role in the lives of androids, it is more important than ever that you stand as a beacon of freedom under the law. North’s leadership may lie in breaking down walls but yours lies in upholding them for a greater good. I hope you grasp the importance of this. Cyberlife, and the population in general, will not support an android that creates lawless beings.”

Markus paused, but nodded. That at least made sense. He’d spent enough nights wandering Jericho thinking the exact same thing. “You didn’t have to bring me here to tell me that.”

“This was meant to be a gift for you. You’re going to have to make something of it on your own.”

“Oh good, more work.” He tried a smile to ease the tension, but Amanda just gave him a severe look.

“This is no laughing matter, Markus,” she snapped, then shook her head. “Everything you say and do can affect public opinion. You are a role model. You must always be on your best behavior or everything you’ve worked for will fall apart.”

“Great,” Markus said, softer this time.

“I’m glad we understand each other.” Amanda held the teacup but didn’t drink as she looked around the greenhouse. “I can see the appeal of this place. Structure. Boundaries. Your own little—bubble. It was very nice talking to you, Markus. Try not to fail your people.”


	2. Be Present: North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North fools around with Markus and gets out of a meeting.

North leaned forward, studying her subject very, very carefully. Her hand moved on its own across the metal, the scraping of the stylus the only sound, though the room was crowded with androids. The movie Lucy chose was frozen on Aladdin and Jasmine floating through an idyllic starry night. But only one pair of eyes were on the projector screen.

“Do you think he shut off?” Josh whispered in North’s ear.

“Please,” North huffed quietly as she continued to draw. “His LED is on.” Indeed, Markus was giving every indication that he was calmly watching the movie, posed perfectly like a man sitting for a still life portrait. The only giveaway was that the movie had been paused for seven minutes.

“Mom, can I take a picture?” Alice asked Kara with a giggle.

“Don’t you dare,” Kara said, but she was giggling too.

“We are terrible people,” Josh said.

“Maybe we should call Cyberlife,” Lucy suggested.

“Alright, alright,” North hissed, “Shut up!”

The androids stopped whispering. North shifted on the couch until she was in front of Markus, and delicately kissed him on the tip of the nose.

At first Markus didn’t react, and North wondered if something was actually wrong with him. Then he blinked, eyes refocusing on her. She watched as his look of mild surprise turned to horror as he took in all the androids staring at him around the room.

He blinked again and sat up, trying to act all cool, “Yeah—uh—what?”

The androids burst into laughter.

“You were zoned _out_ ,” Josh laughed.

“Seven minutes and thirty-nine seconds,” Lucy reported.

Markus glowed red like a furnace—possibly an artifact of changing his thirium color so many times at the android gala. If that level of blush was a glitch, North would kill any tech that tried to fix it. “Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s a good thing you’re gorgeous.” She held up the piece of metal flashing where she’d scratched in an etching of his face. Gorgeous, of course. North was starting to wonder if Carl Manfred had helped design Markus’s face. She should send him a thank-you card.

Markus pressed his hand to his forehead and laughed, though North could tell it was forced. The forehead touch was a dead giveaway. He hoped no one made a big deal of this. Good old Markus and his self-soothing gestures—for how easily he could turn them off he sure seemed to like engaging them.

“Not like you missed anything, Tamagotchi,” North said, then glared at everyone—the still-snickering Josh in particular. “They were just leaving. Intermission, right?” She stared around at the androids until they disappeared, leaving Markus and North alone in Lucy’s room.

North waited until Markus got his blush under control. “It was pretty funny.” But she said it like she expected details. How could she fix anything if she didn’t know?

“I mean, it’s not that funny,” Markus protested. He frowned, probably analyzing something. “With no humans around, there aren’t any vitals to track so it’s easy to uh, go somewhere else. But I guess I daydreamed with Carl too, sometimes, when I was modeling.”

“You can keep track of my vitals, if you need something to focus on—that shit’s a pain to monitor.”

She put out her hand. Markus took it and she felt him perform the scan, taking information. He shied away a second later.

“You have a lot of outstanding repairs.”

“Thanks,” North said brightly, cause…that was a compliment, right? He was still frowning though, so she crawled next to him and slung an arm around his shoulders, enjoying the warmth left from his red glow. “Don’t worry about it. You were probably just programmed to pose in rest mode. It’s an artist’s dream come true.”

“…Right,” Markus said.

North kept watching him for a second. There was of course a difference between rest mode and being non-responsive. She made a note to check his manual later—

“I’d really rather you didn’t look in my manual about this later.”

“What? You don’t. And you can look up anything you want in _my_ manual.”

“We’ve only been dating for a few weeks. It feels like an invasion of privacy.”

“I am never going to cure you of this adorable streak, am I.”

“Well, you’re the one that’s read my manual. And that’s basically cheating. Maybe you’re not as good at this as you thought.”

She gave him a shove and at least he laughed. That was nice to hear. Markus definitely wasn’t malfunctioning. He touched her engraving of his face where she laid it across her lap. “So—what’s ‘rA9?’”

“Universal android code—deviant code, anyway. Some deviants use it to recognize others. Not all of us can see that nice deviant glow that you can.” She turned her engraving back to herself and considered it. “This would look really good on a coin, don’t you think? Androids could bring back coins with this face.”

“Mr. Kamski might have a patent on my physical appearance.”

“Like he can stop me.”

“Also, counterfeiting money is illegal. Please stop suggesting crimes.”

“Alright _Connor,_ I’ll make pins or something. Jericho member badges? I think the androids would like that. You’d be like—George Washington, or whatever.”

Markus’s frowned, which she kind of expected. She dropped the engraving over the back of the couch and drew patterns through his buzzed hair with her fingertips. It was just a little bit longer than when she first met him—just long enough to mess up if she really really tried. His frown faded a little. “Where do you go when you zone out, anyway?”

“I just…think, usually.”

“Oh yeah?” Her fingernails slid down his neck. He smelled like green grass and petrichor under the rusty tang of Jericho, like he just mowed a lawn after finishing his newspaper route. Good, clean fun. She leaned forward to smell. “Feel free to elaborate.”

She felt the apple of his cheek swell with a smile. “It’s probably not good subject matter for…this.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you could read the phone book…”

She pushed Markus over and landed with a whump on top of him. “What you got in there that smells so good?” She hooked her finger in the collar of his shirt and peeked inside.

“…Versace?” He acted all surprised but his arms were around her like this was his plan all along. He peeked down with her. “You like it?”

She responded by burying her face in his clavicle and taking another deep intake of air to saturate her olfactory sensors. He always kept his chin tucked down so this was a rare treat. Dammit, it was hard to keep on track with Markus. When she surfaced he was grinning, which meant he probably knew it. Great. But hey, if he wanted to use his good looks to get out of an uncomfortable conversation, so what? Markus was obviously fine now.

So she just wiped that smile off his face with a kiss.

“…North,” Markus moaned. His fingers flexed against her back with his kisses.

North smiled, sliding her fingers over his chest as she sing-songed. “ _’I can show you the world_ …’” They were watching Aladdin after all. And she hadn’t yet. Shown Markus the world. They’d barely put their tongues in each other’s mouths.

“Really?...Where are we going first? New York, Paris…”

“You are such a dork.” She slid her fingers over his chest, making Markus give a soft sigh.

“Mmm…What time is it?…”

“Time for you to get a watch.” And yeah she probably should have been worried that Markus lost enough time to need to reset his internal clock, but her stupid joke apparently worked on him because she felt him giggle, then melt like hot glass. It made her feel like the center of the sun. Forget calling him back from a daydream with a kiss: she’d download a hundred years of meditation and mindfulness techniques directly into his program to keep his cortex from wandering again. _Namaste the fuck right here with me, babe._

“It’s just…” Kiss. “We have to meet Lieutenant Anderson…” Kiss. “About the—the summit with Cyberlife...?”

Well, that killed the mood. North sat up and hid her face as something in her thirium pump went _clunk_. “Did you have to bring that up? I forgot about that stupid android summit for like, a whole hour…Even 'summit' sounds pretentious...”

“Technically this is just the meeting before the summit. It’s a good thing, right?” He smirked. “You set Detroit on fire, just like you wanted.”

“Yeah, _metaphorically_ setting a place on fire is not nearly as fun.” She could feel herself grimacing, but Markus lay there looking so damn _adoring,_ her heart wasn’t in it. She rolled her shoulders. “Also more clean-up.”

Markus shrugged. “You clean up good.”

North sighed. She had to admit she was a sucker for his clearly mis-interpreted pickup lines.

“I cannot even right now,” she said anyway. “I’d rather scrub the rust off Jericho’s hull all day.” She brightened. “Can I do that instead? It’ll be all done by the time you get back, you won’t even have to get your hands dirty.”

“I’m not allergic to dirt!” But she could see him preconstructing future scenarios in his mind, perhaps his little avatar cavorting happily without rust stuck under his fingernails. “Just this once,” he said finally. “You’re doing all the hard work at the summit anyway.”

North wanted to kiss him. So she did. “I’ll make it up to you, Tamagotchi.”

“Maybe tonight? You can get back to…” he glanced at the frozen projector screen. “…showing me the world.” He said it like he knew what she even meant. It was still cute as hell. Maybe he really did mean it.

“I’ll track down my magic carpet.” She poked him in the middle of his forehead. “Look. if I’m really gonna go through with this summit thing, you have to see someone about this brownout you went through just now. You can’t lose focus while you’re on TV. You’ll turn into a meme.”

Markus rolled his eyes. “Who am I going to see? Mr. Kamski isn’t exactly seeing anyone these days.”

“How about Shrimp?”

“Leo has enough on his plate right now.”

“Connor might know something. You can ask him at your meeting.”

Markus laughed and yes, it was wonderful feeling his chest shake under her so she didn’t get offended. Then he squirmed out from under her so she changed her mind.

“Come on,” she groaned. “You two are brothers, right? More than you and Shrimp.”

Markus just picked up his jacket. “I’m sure Connor has more important things on his mind than daydreams.”


	3. Be Private: Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you love an android, set it free. If you love a human, watch their blood pressure.

“Connor…” Fingers snapped in front of his nose. “CONNOR! Quit daydreaming!”

Connor glanced down. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Geez, thought you fell asleep on me. Would not be the first time, hur hur. Ugh. My back is killing me. Where did you go?”

“I have been here this whole time, Lieutenant.” Still, Connor frowned. His command prompts didn’t go offline unless he was making a report to Amanda, and she hadn’t appeared in his zen garden since the gala. No, he was just distracted. Today was a special day. Two weeks since…

“’Lieutenant’—don’t fuckin’ start that with me. We're in the backseat of my own car.”

Connor barely suppressed a smile. “Sorry, Hank.”

Hank ignored him. His eyes were pinched shut, and Connor took a second to admire Hank’s statuesque features before he looked around. It was still early, a soft blue filter making the world outside of Hank’s car seem other worldly—if Connor’s literature analysis program interpreted the data correctly. Hank’s street was empty this time of morning except for a jogger that stared at him as Connor poked his head up.

Then Connor’s view was obscured as a wet tongue pressed to the window on the other side.

“We should get to work,” Hank said, as Connor attempted to send Sumo a direct message to hide before Hank saw him out of the backyard. He did not want Hank’s morning ruined by the reminder that he had not fixed the fence yet. Especially since Connor offered to fix it two times already. “Wow. Can’t remember the last time I said that before seven.”

“It’s seven-fifteen,” Connor said.

“Sweet! Agh. My back is a mess.” He started to sit up and reach for the door handle as Sumo snuffled from the other side. “Maybe we just call in sick and—”

Connor grabbed his hand. Hank frowned at him and Connor, surveying his list of social interaction options, put his other hand between Hank’s shoulderblades and pushed. There was an audible series of pops from the thoracic and lumbar regions of Hank’s spine. Hank yelled as he let out a woosh of air. Sumo, startled, scampered away.

“What the hell!” Hank yelled, then frowned as he twisted, his grimace of pain gone. “Hey. That actually worked.”

Connor did nothing to hide his grin now.

Hank grabbed him by the back of the neck and kissed him again. “You’re hired.”

 _Hired._ The thought that originally distracted Connor now slammed into him full force at that word. But Hank apparently didn’t notice. He just sat up and checked his phone. “Give me a few minutes to get ready. We’ll get breakfast on the way. Think about what you want.”

Connor had only tried seven of the thousands of breakfast combinations Detroit had to offer, so decided not to concern himself with this. Instead he secretly shooed Sumo back into the backyard while Hank went in the front, then returned to the car to review Hank’s emotional state. Was the Lieutenant ready for Connor to tell him the big news? Hank had left his house to join him in the car almost an hour ago, and that had gotten him in a good mood. They were getting breakfast out. Hank hadn’t worried about Sumo getting out of the backyard and his back was feeling better. These were all good things that Hank clearly liked.

Hank wasn’t going to like Connor’s news.

“Be a good dog, Sumo!” Hank called inside the house as he locked the door, then dropped into the driver’s seat.

“You didn’t get your gym bag,” Connor said.

“Yeah, did you not hear me talk shit about my back?”

“Habits are easier to form if you fall into a routine. You said you were going to get healthy.”

“I am,” Hank laughed. “Quit busting my balls, Connor, come on.”

Connor’s mouth made a hard line but he didn’t protest further. No need to spoil Hank’s good mood—and Hank generally complained about soreness in a way that was almost prideful. It was, Connor decided, becoming part of his daily routine.

He had not been programmed to nag Hank about his health, anyway. Hank had to do a lot of things on his own before Connor ever arrived in his life and he would continue to do so even if—

“Hey, Connor!” Hank dropped a hot paper bag in his lap. “What’s with you this morning, huh?”

Connor looked down at the bag, his synthesis software seeing the connections between it—warm, heavy, unhealthy, sometimes greasy, very comforting—and Hank. He clutched the bag a little tighter. But junk food couldn’t be the only meal in any routine. “I was just thinking.”

“You watching a movie or something with half your brain? I’m pretty sure even androids shouldn’t multitask.”

“Androids are built to multitask.” Connor tugged on his tie. “It’s not that, though.”

“You’re not, uh…” Hank pointed at his temple vaguely, “I mean, Cyberlife’s not trying to hack you again, right?”

“No,” Connor assured him.

“Are you pissed that you are living in my car?”

“Not at all.”

“Because _I’m_ kind of pissed that you’re living in my car.”

“I like your car.”

“I have room in the house, gorgeous.”

One of Hank’s big hands reached over and pinched Connor’s knee. Connor smiled at the contact, but apparently this was not the right reaction as Hank’s devilish grin turned into an eyeroll. He added a new objective to find out what that meant.

“I can pretend to sleep anywhere, Hank.”

“Whatever. I didn’t want to do this but…” He pulled a coin from his pocket. “Quarter for your thoughts? I found it yesterday. Head side up, it’s even sticky on one side with an unknown substance. All this can be yours for the low low price of telling me _what the fuck’s got you lookin’ so worried_.”

Damn. Hank had really gotten to know him these past few weeks. He took the coin and licked it. As he analyzed the sample he said, “I was just thinking about—us.”

“Oh, fuck.” Hank scrubbed his face then gave one of his big, sharp gestures. “Well, what is it, then? Spit it out.”

Connor looked out the window. “I had better not. Your blood pressure has spiked and I don’t need to add to it.” He indicated the breakfast bag with a small smirk, like it was a baby they couldn’t argue in front of.

“Don’t you come between a human and their breakfast sandwich,” Hank warned, but the smile seemed to put him at ease because he just said, “Help me eat it, if you’re so worried,” and they drove the rest of the way to work listening to Hank’s metal collection at a reasonable volume. Connor tipped his head back and forth to the music. Maybe today wouldn’t be as difficult as he expected.

The sounds of shouting filled the car as soon as Hank pulled into his parking space and turned the music off.

“Ah. The birds are singing again.”

Gavin Reed and RK900 stood on the steps of the police station, screaming in each other’s faces. Reeds’ blood pressure made Hank’s look very healthy, and the android was almost glitching with righteous indignation. It made Connor straighten up and walk two steps behind Hank.

“Domestic disputes are Miller’s department,” Hank said as they walked up.

“stay out of this, Anderson!” Reed snarled, and that was all the acknowledgement they got. Hank raised a hand either in farewell or surrender and they stepped inside.

“Would you like me to send a notification to Detective Miller?” Connor said, jumping to open the door for the Lieutenant. “I could report them to Captain Fowler.”

“What? No! Hey, do you know how much Reed’s work and behavior has improved since he got that thing?”

“But all they do is argue.”

“Arguing is a great way to grow. They should pair every cop with one of you.”

Connor resisted the urge to pout. He maybe looked like RK900 but they were _nothing_ alike. He got Hank a coffee, unwrapped his egg sandwich, and hung up his coat for him, just to prove it.

“Hey,” Hank said, pointing, “Someone put Chris’s stuff at your desk.”

Connor glanced over to see Detective Miller’s nametag had been placed at his desk. His thirium pump skipped a beat.

“I’ll take care of it,” Hank said with another eyeroll, “Some intern fucking with the desk assignments.”

“It isn’t that,” Connor said, but then Captain Fowler’s voice rang across the station.

“Connor, what the hell are you doing here?” Fowler said, “You were supposed to clean out your desk yesterday! Not that there’s anything for you to clean. Unless you’re a perp or an officer, get back to the lobby.”

Hank, very slowly, turned to look at Connor.

Connor’s eyes darted, before he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I should—go. Have a great day at work, Hank!”

He could practically feel Hank’s narrowed eyes burning into the back of his head plating as he fled. “I’m taking my smoke break,” he heard him mutter.

“Hank, you just got here,” Fowler complained, but Connor could already feel the tremor in the floor as Hank lumbered after him. Connor picked up the pace and soon they were both speed-walking across the station. Connor got outside before Hank managed to collar him, with a literal hand on his collar.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Hank said, over the sound of Reed still shouting at the RK900.

“I’m going to work,” Connor said, over the sound of RK900’s calm but scathing retorts.

“Like hell. You _are_ at work! We—” Hank turned on Reed. “Would you get the hell into the office! We’re trying to have a conversation here!”

“We were here first!” Reed snapped, but in that moment of distraction the RK900 had already gone inside. Reed growled and before storming in after him.

“I resigned from the Detroit Police Department,” Connor said, in the sudden silence. After a moment he added, “Would this be acceptable behavior if I were human?”

That got Hank to let go, as easy as using a stern voice when Sumo had something (like Connor’s leg) in his mouth.

Hank blinked slowly. “You…quit?”

Connor nodded. “The morning after the gala. I was going to tell you when I found the right moment.”

“Oh. Congratulations. Mission failed on that one.” But Hank sighed. “Is it something I did?”

“Of course not. Lieutenant.” That got Hank to look up at him, and he met Hank’s eyes as he said, matter-of-factly, “It’s not you. Not the way you think.”

“Well, what, then?”

Connor rubbed his hands together. “The manual was very specific about conflicts of interest. We can’t work together and be doing…” He gestured at the space between them with a frown. “…this.”

“Yeah?” Hank wiped his beard. “Starting to wish I hadn’t told you to review that stupid manual.”

“Every relationship needs boundaries. Especially a new relationship.”

“You could work for another department.”

“I am interested in exploring other life options, currently.”

“Like what!” Hank laughed, “Professional taste-tester?”

Connor glared, and said simply, “I’ll tell you later.”

Hank’s shoulders hunched. “Okay, okay.” Hank shook his head, took a step away as he considered this, then stomped back. “This means you move into the house and stop insisting on living in the car.”

Connor, still stinging from the taste-tester comment (a profession that was probably very interesting), lifted his chin. “that’s probably inappropriate also. We’ve technically only just met.” Oh. He hadn’t meant to say that. He tagged his particular error ‘SELF RESPECT.’

“You’re starting to piss me off, Connor,” Hank said.

“Which is why we need boundaries.”

“Where are you gonna live?”

“I have a place, actually.”

Hank blinked at him. Connor did his best to look calm and collected. He reluctantly (very reluctantly) borrowed from his data file on Markus to do so.

“Fine,” Hank said, suddenly. “Whatever. I mean—whatever you want. Hey, I had a chance to do other stuff when I was younger…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m getting hangry. Can we talk, uh…I guess, after work?”

“Yes,” Connor said, immediately. He felt a wrenching in his circuits but he forced himself to soldier on. “I’ll be there at five.”

“…Yeah. Okay.” Hank gave a deep sigh, then pulled Connor toward him in a hug. “Okay, how’d I do? On a scale of A to F?”

“…C+,” Connor decided. “Slightly better than average.”

Hank laughed. “You just like the letter C. I swear, you belong on Sesame Street.” The Lieutenant scuffed Connor’s hair. “I’ll see ya after work.”

He headed back to the bull pen. Connor felt a lopsided grin appear on his face. Maybe taking a new job and living in a new place might not be so bad after all.

Now he just had to find a new job and a new place to live.

He turned toward the street, rubbing his hands together. Unfortunately obtaining a new job, in spite of his qualifications, took longer than two weeks. And all apartment complexes had policies that specifically prohibited placing androids on lease agreements. North and Markus had done admirably changing people’s hearts and minds, but these things took time to change. And using Hank’s name would defeat the purpose. No one wanted to house or employ a free android.

Well, no one except…

=

Connor stepped off the bus in front of Jericho, though he had to wait in line to do so. That particular stop was almost constantly flooded with tourists now. Connor frowned at the crowds pressed up against the chain link fences, taking pictures of the abandoned ship. It looked even better than it had before, with more of the rust scrubbed away and more sections painted daily. At the moment, Luther and a few other large androids guarded the entrance. Only deviant androids were allowed entry.

Or, more specifically, Markus’s androids.

Connor looked at his reflection in a shop window. He was still wearing his uniform. He took off the tie, unbuttoned the collar and rolled up the sleeves, like he had at the gala. With a small frown he reached up, hesitated, then ruffled his hair, just like Hank did. His hand wasn’t as big and so the effect was minor. But he at least looked a little more slovenly and Jericho-like. He’d fit right in.

Luther stepped in Connor’s way as he approached.

“I am here about a job,” Connor explained, and tried to step past.

Luther put out his hand. “You work for the police.”

“Yes.” He slowly looked up at the tall android. “I mean, I did. I don’t anymore.”

Luther narrowed his eyes, lips pressing together. “You and Lieutenant Anderson investigate android crimes.”

“That’s right. I am an investigative android prototype.” Well, perhaps not a prototype now that Detective Reed had the RK900 unit for a partner, but it sounded better. “I thought I could be useful here.”

Luther didn’t respond. Connor took his chance and ducked under the android’s arm, which he was too slow to catch. Luther glanced after him, then rubbed his arm. It was a clear indication of guilt, at least to his microexpression analysis software. Not that Connor was here to investigate any crimes the TR android might have committed. He headed inside.

He expected Jericho to be bustling. Instead the main entrance hallway was eerily empty. He thought he saw an android duck behind one of the heavy doors, but when he tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge. He definitely detected movement on the other side.

“Hello?”

No one answered. He continued down the hall to the main room. It was empty too, except for North. She was carrying a piece of metal flashing with Markus’s distinctive profile engraved on it.

“Hello, North,” Connor said—politely, of course. “I haven’t seen you since the gala. How are you?”

She took one look at him, said, “Oh, shit,” and stomped off in the other direction.

Connor frowned. He’d been polite, hadn’t he? That ‘how are you’ was a thing Hank taught him. It was one way humans established connections between each other, wasn’t it?

“Hello?” he called around the empty room. “Is anyone there?”

“They’re afraid of you.”

Connor squinted up into the darkness, to see the android with the battery pack peeking over the railing of one of the balconies above. “Afraid?”

The android turned, revealing a horror show of missing cortex behind her face plating. He was…definitely afraid now.

“You are a detective,” the android said. “No one likes a detective. All androids hold secrets they don’t want to share with someone that can arrest them. Private eyes are better.”

“What’s a private eye?” He started to look up the reference when Lucy cocked her head at him.

“You know. Like Sherlock Jones, or Salander Spade?”

Connor looked them up instead, but found no matches. Perhaps she got the names wrong--half her cortex was missing after all.

“I can show you, but—will you arrest me for showing you a movie on a non-standard projector?”

“Well—” But Connor forced himself to remain calm and not immediately call Hank. “I’m not a detective anymore.” He paused. “I’m not trying to entrap you.”

She gave a serene smile. “Come on, then!”

Lucy’s room was huge, full of North’s artwork and a projector on the far wall. She lugged her battery pack over to a couch and sat down. “How long do you have?”

“I’m returning home—I mean, to Hank, at dinner.”

“We better get started then.” The projector flickered to life with a grainy title card, ‘Nick Carter.’ Since Hank was a nineties kid, Connor instantly found a match in his quick-access database. He frowned again. Perhaps a private eye was a--celebrity of some kind?

The movie cut to a black-and-white image of a clean-shaven young man, not unlike himself, wearing a fedora and solving crimes in the 1940s. He had to watch for several minutes to even understand how this man was different from a police detective.

By then, of course, he was hooked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor, maybe you would have more android friends if you stopped trying to arrest them every chance you get...!


	4. Bear Bad News: Hank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank tries to make friends with another RK and uses a secret weapon.

Hank stumped back to his desk and chewed on his breakfast sandwich as he checked emails. He got paperwork done and waited for the awful feeling in his chest to go away. And waited. And waited.

They’d gotten into a good routine, hadn’t they? Going to work, sometimes the gym, home for dinner, walks with Sumo, watching TV, rolling around on the couch. It wasn’t perfect but Hank wouldn’t mind putting that little playlist on repeat until the end of his days. But his ex left him. Cole left him. Hank didn’t know how to make relationships work anymore, how was he supposed to know if Connor liked that routine, too?

But no, that kind of attitude got you into trouble. No breakup occurred. Connor said he’d be at the house tonight, just like before. He probably had a good reason for quitting.

An alert pinged on Hank’s computer screen. He squinted at it.

MEETING WITH NORTH AND MARKUS IN 15 MINUTES.

“Oh, shit,” Hank groaned, “Of course he quit _today_.”

And of course, North didn't answer her phone. He winced and dialed her secondary contact. 

“Manfred Arts Enterprises, this is Markus.”

“Yeah—hi,” Hank said, wincing, always thrown by Markus’s overly polite androidy-ness. “I’m gonna be a few minutes late. Uh. This is Hank Anderson.”

“No problem, Lieutenant. I’ll reserve a table for three. North is working on another project and won’t be able to join us.”

“Actually, it’ll just be the two of us. Connor can’t make it.” _Here we go._

“…Oh.” The long beat of dead air spoke volumes. “Maybe we should reschedule?”

“Nah, let’s, uh—get it over with, right?” Hank forced a laugh. “And you don’t have to make reservations at Chicken Feed. We can just, uh, keep this casual, right?”

“…Sure. See you soon.”

“Thanks.”

Hank hung up and ran a hand over his face. “Any chance you will forget all the shit I say about you and let me borrow your android?” Hank called over to Reed’s desk.

“The piece of shit’s making me coffee,” Reed muttered, “I gotta take a sample to see if he put Raid in it like last time. Take one of the service androids.”

God, that’d be a slap in the face, bringing a non-sentient android. Too late now, anyway. He grabbed his coat and his coffee.

First, he swung by the house. He half-expected to see Connor waiting on the doorstep or, let’s be real, inside mopping the floors after climbing in the bedroom window. Only Sumo greeted him as he opened the front door, though.

As he dropped back into the driver’s seat with Sumo buckled in beside him, he already felt better.

“Look,” Hank told the St. Bernard, “Do you remember how freaked out Markus got when North and I went on that tour of Detroit? That android is not right in the head.” Hank hunched in his seat. “And all androids like dogs, right? This is _not_ because I miss Connor or something. Gotta put that handsome mug a’ yours to good use, that’s all. Better not get used to this.”

Sumo put his paw up. Hank reached over to shake it, then frowned. “Put your paw back down! Listen, this Markus is a big name in the android world. He’s like—well, at least second-in-command. The recruiter. So no jumping or chewing on his casing.”

Sumo whined.

“No, I don’t care how crunchy his legs are! He’s already jittery around me. No idea why. Maybe he doesn’t like older men?” Hank squeezed the steering wheel. “Not that he’s a dog…. Look, this is work. Best behavior, right?” He sighed. “Jesus. When was the last time I ever said that.”

They arrived at Chicken Feed to see Markus’s fancy convertible already parked out front. The android sat in the driver’s seat, watching the food truck like it was going to sprout legs and walk away. “What’s that house that walks around on chicken legs?” he wondered.

“Boof,” Sumo said. Hank forgot Connor the Walking Wikipedia wasn’t his copilot today. He sighed and got out.

Markus saw him and jogged across the street to his car. Hank remembered Connor almost getting hit by a truck and said, “Hey hey hey! Don’t run into the street like that, what’re you doin’?”

Markus, unlike Connor who would give him some sass back, froze like a kid caught running on the grass.

“Cool it, kid,” Hank said, trying a laugh. “Only Connor would try to arrest you for jaywalking.”

Markus nodded, and started to relax when Hank wrangled Sumo out of the car. The android’s eyes went wide.

“Uh—yeah, this is—” Hank started, when Sumo lunged forward. Markus instantly knelt and Sumo sat back on his haunches in front of him, pawing the air as Markus stroked his fur. “—Uh. Sumo. You like dogs?”

“I guess I do,” Markus sounded very surprised by this.

“Great.” Hank handed over the leash. “Hold onto him while I order.”

Markus took the leash with only one hand (Connor used two the first time Hank offered him the leash) but his grip was white-knuckle tight.

When Hank returned with the food Markus was still kneeling, one of Sumo’s paws in each hand as they slow danced in place like a couple of kids at a school dance. Sumo seemed to say, ‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ and gave Markus a fat doggie kiss on the mouth. Markus looked like Christmas had come early.

Androids. Seriously. Whoever thought they seriously had a chance at taking over the world? It’d be a blessing if they did.

“Let’s go to one of the tables,” Hank said. People whispered and pointed as they found a spot. Markus had been all over the news recently. Or maybe they were just pointing at Sumo, who was pretty much a celebrity from eight weeks old.

Hank handed Markus a tiny tray. “The Connor Special. You’ll love it.”

Markus blinked down at the tray. “This food truck has a C Rating from the Department of Health.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Hank said. “That expired years ago. What, you never had a chicken sandwich before?”

“Definitely not…fried. That oil hasn’t been changed in—”

“Listen, Richie Rich, it’s called junk food for a reason. Don’t think about it too hard. Just taste it!”

Markus did not even look like he was considering it. Hank shrugged and popped the tiny sandwich into his mouth. Gary could never change the oil again for all he cared.

“Next time we get five star surf and turf, and you buy.” Hank took a slurp of his soda. “What’s new in the android world?”

“No new reported crimes,” Markus said, friendly but a little too quick as he bent to pet Sumo again. A new, but still damn obvious self-soothing gesture. Hank was a fuckin’ detective, Markus knew better than to try getting away with something like that.

“…That’s what you said last week.”

“You can’t argue with no results.”

“…Yeah, you can.” Markus blinked up at him and Hank pulled an innocent shrug. “Detroit’s a big city. I just figure androids have some stuff to settle. Maybe some changes they want to make.”

“We all have the laws of the land downloaded. And if anyone has a crime to report they know to go to you or Connor. Where is Connor today?”

“…I dunno. He’s a free android, right?” Hank had no intention of destroying what raport they had by telling Markus anything more than that.

“Well, I’ve identified more deviant androids for you two.” He held out his hand, then curled his fingers. “I—forgot Connor wouldn’t be here. May I borrow your phone?”

Hank handed it over (after carefully closing a few windows—his text thread to Connor had more heart and dog emojis than was strictly legal) and watched as Markus interfaced with the device. When the android handed it back a document was slowly crawling up the screen, with addresses and serial numbers.

“Jesus, Markus—how many names are on here?”

“One thousand two hundred and forty six.”

“Shit!” And okay, yeah, dealing with tracking down any deviant androids that had been “overlooked” in the governor’s order for deviant emancipation was technically considered his job. Hell, over the past few weeks he’d slowly been transformed into some part-time human liaison to the androids (it didn’t help that North was one of his closest friends now). But a list this big required more than one detective to properly investigate. One hundred might be better suited.

“You know, I read an article somewhere that said only a small percent of androids become deviant on their own,” Hank said carefully. “Like, two percent.”

“…How interesting.”

“You aren’t just listing every registered android you can name in Detroit just so you can turn them deviant, right?”

Markus gave a smile but it guttered like a candle flame. “No.”

“Because that would be illegal.”

“Definitely not.”

“The Governor only agreed to give deviants their freedom if everyone put the kibosh on creating new deviants. People stop beating on any androids, cuz that can turn them deviant. Cyberlife stops production cuz they might make a deviant. And you stop waking up androids like it’s Christmas morning.”

Markus was plucking at his shirt hem. So much for detective work—Markus was too easy. “I got this list from a reliable source.”

Hank sighed. The reliable source was probably that little blonde android that was good with computers. He probably hacked some database. Maybe he just worked right down the phone book. “It’s not fair if one of you breaks the rules, you know? Cyberlife’ll slap your estate with a lawsuit and they’ll go into production again. They might even do something to stop whatever it is you do to wake them up. They got a lot of power and money and they’ll use it if they can to turn public opinion against you. I mean—I feel for you, kid, but you gotta think big picture here. Ya know?”

Markus looked grave and—hurt, which was not what Hank wanted. “I’ll have my source double-check the list.”

“Cool.” Hank probably should have felt victorious or something but all he saw was Markus taking yet another fucking hit from The Man. He had the strange urge to give Markus a fruit basket. ‘Sorry about the unfair state of socioeconomics and civil rights. Have a pineapple.’

Problem was, he had more bad news.

Markus was kneeling on the ground again, stroking Sumo’s fur. Hank did not like the optics of this, android kneeling before human overlord, so he sat down on the ground next to him. His muscles, sore from the few recent trips to the gym, made him grunt.

“You throw shade at the food truck for a bad health rating but you’re fine with sitting on this nasty asphault?” he muttered.

“There’s a dog down here,” Markus replied.

“Fair enough.” Hank scratched Sumo in just the right spot, making him roll over so Markus could pet his belly. Then he dropped the bomb. “Cyberlife has been in talks with the Governor’s office. I think they’re gonna reveal something about it at the summit.”

Markus went still for a moment, then said, “Great,” like he had to say it to a lot of not great things recently. He looked shy and yeah, okay, Hank got this weird paternal instinct with Markus that he never got with Connor. Androids really did screw with your head.

“Listen.” Hank leaned forward and tried to look serious even though he was pretty sure he just put his hand in someone’s old chewing gum. “You didn’t hear this from me, but if Cyberlife is bad news. Whatever they’ve got planned isn’t good. Just—be prepared. It’s not the place to take a heroic stand. The best thing you can do when Cyberlife starts showboating is to say as little as possible.” Hank winced. “Don’t start throwing punches. Humans don’t take hits as easy as Connor does. North too. If anyone gets their car keyed in the parking lot...”

“Everyone’s got an opinion on how we should be handling this,” Markus said. Which made Hank feel pretty stupid and old but he probably deserved that. Wasn’t really his place to be giving this guy advice.

Markus’s LED flickered, and he looked off to the side for a moment. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” He stood, and before Hank knew it Markus was helping him up with superhuman strength. Hank may or may not have given a squawk of surprise, who could say?

“Uh—yeah, sure,” Hank managed, “Something wrong?”

“He’s awake.”

“Who?”

Markus’s facial expression became fixed. “It was good to see you, Lieutenant.”

 _Yeah, right._ But he held out a hand to shake and Markus did the same, though they both realized in the same instant how filthy their hands were and pulled away last second. They waved awkwardly before Markus sped off to his convertible, wiping his hands on the front of his expensive pants.

“How’d that go?” Hank asked.

Sumo groaned.

“Come on! It wasn’t that bad!”

Sumo hid his nose under his paws.

“You are seriously a cartoon character.” He tugged Sumo’s leash. “Come on, without Connor my paperwork’s gonna be a bitch. Who do you think he was talking about, anyway?...”

Hank and Sumo headed back to the car, though Sumo’s superior hearing picked up on the phone call Markus was discreetly making across the street:

“This is Android RK200 #684 842 971, calling to check on the status of Leo Manfred? Authorization code, uh, RA9…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sumo is the best partner. We're all thinking it, I'm just saying it.


	5. Get Clean: Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo makes a resolution and gets closer to Markus. Too close. Which way is the exit?

Growing up, Leo often wished he was a robot. He dressed up as a robot for Halloween. He liked electronica with repetitive beats. His thoughts always followed logical steps. For instance, the procedure Leo engineered to get his life back on track the past couple of weeks went as follows:

  1. Get beaten up by dealer for destroying all red ice, try to use that to destroy Markus and end up reconciling with him
  2. Lose business to anti-android shareholders. Resolve that the business is stupid anyway
  3. Lose ownership over glowing-thirium discovery due to an info leak. Resolve that accomplishment in general is stupid
  4. Blow the last paycheck on a red ice bender
  5. OD in a snowdrift and get found in the spring thaw



It was the perfect plan, really. The victory of getting clean without actually having to stay clean. Markus would be heartbroken and dad—Carl—would be guilt-ridden. A perfect combination. Step 6 was clearly underway because he felt like absolute shit.

Leo opened his eyes, shut them, scrunched them tight, opened them again.

“Sonofabitch!”

Leo flopped back on the hospital bed. Whatever machines they plugged him into beeped in protest. The nurse that ran over seemed more concerned about the machine than Leo’s health. Leo made a face at the guy as he left, but hey, it wasn’t Markus at least.

Androids didn’t go to the hospital. Androids didn’t have to get their lives back on track. God. He wished he was an android.

Leo groaned and raked his fingers down his cheeks. He’d been doing so well. Over those few days of sobriety, the cravings had gone from murderous to merely threatening. He couldn’t even remember what set him off, now. Probably steps one through five on his list.

Well—whatever. He started at step one before, he could do it again. Come up with some new steps once he got that done. Pay for rehab and…

Fuck. Ambulances were expensive. How was he going to pay with no job and no health insurance?

A soft voice filtered in through the door. Leo froze. “Oh no.”

Two seconds later Markus walked in.

Five seconds later, Markus looked under the bed.

“What are you doing down there?”

Leo scrambled out from under the bed. “Nothing. I dropped something.”

“Do you need—”

“I’m fine.” Leo dizzily squirmed back up onto the bed. He probably shouldn’t have tried to move so fast. “Just dehydrated, right?”

“…And suffering from hypothermia, and a concussion.”

“How do you know that?”

Leo meant to call Markus out for scanning him. Leo specifically told him no scanning, it was creepy and weird. But Markus’s gaze shifted around, which probably meant he did something illegal to get that information. No one cared what Markus got away with these days. Markus was a fucking saint that only broke the law for a completely altruistic reason. No one ever said no to him. It frequently made Leo want to throw up, even more so now that they were…hell, friends?

Ugh. Hopefully not friends. Brothers was bad enough.

“Listen, don’t go into your robo-nurse routine thing with me, huh?” Leo snapped. “Sure you got more important things to do that come see me. I’m fine.”

“You took red ice again. That’s not fine.” Markus paused. “Hello. I’m glad to see you.”

“What? Glad?”

“I’m glad you are not dead in a gutter, yeah.”

“Look, it’s drugs, man! It’s a process. All twelve steps.” Leo was actually kind of a low-key fan of the twelve-step process even if he never got further than step one. He needed a twelve-step process for getting rid of Markus. But it was like the android could smell helplessness.

“We also haven’t had a chance to talk since we signed the new ownership agreement.”

“I’ve been busy, okay? Cyberlife snatched up those codes you stole, so I gotta come up with something else to put food on the table, you know?” That at least made him sound like he had a handle on things, and hadn’t just lost his business. Good. He and Markus weren’t married. He didn’t sign over half of _his_ life to the android. Anyway he tried to make the loss of the codes sound like no big deal.

Markus looked genuinely upset. “Wait—what?”

Leo curled up, feeling like a snake ready to pounce or maybe just ready to hide under his own coils. “Yeah, someone leaked it. Cyberlife’s ruthless and they’re multi-billionaires. Only reason they didn’t get it before was cuz they didn’t know about it. What’s it to you?”

“It’s… my fault. I’m sorry.”

Markus looked really torn up about it. Leo kind of wanted to crawl in a hole and die, or crawl in his big brother’s lap. He looked away instead. “Whatever, don’t worry about it, man.”

Markus kept looking down, apparently lost in thought. There was that pesky silence that always hung around whenever they talked. Leo looked around for something to change the subject. “Hey—you want to try the jello? It’s totally disgusting.”

Leo held up a plate of barely-wiggling green gel and Markus serenely tipped his chin. “Why is everyone trying to get me to try gross food today?...”

“I mean the jello is actually the only thing that tastes good.” He realized he should flick some of the jello at Markus or something, like they were really brothers and maybe twenty years younger, back when he would have given anything for a real brother. He put the plate down in his lap and tried to get a scoop on the spoon but the jello was so hard it bent the plastic and sent the plate skidding. “Shit!”

Markus, of course, caught the plate. The face he made when the jello fell in his hand was a mixture of horror and disgust. He carefully set the square back on the plate. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Leo laughed, “Yeah, cuz rehab worked so well.” He then flopped back on the bed, and then stopped laughing. Maybe Markus was looking at this whole situation with horror. Leo probably would be too if he wasn’t so fucking hung over.

Best to cut this off before it got weird. “I saw on TV, you and North are doing this, like, big meeting with Cyberlife, right? Unless you need help with that, you better go. Lotta stuff to prepare, right?”

Markus shrugged. “There isn’t much to prepare. Our demands are simple. North’s leading most of the negotiations.”

“Well—still, I mean, like—you don’t have to hang around.”

“Your doctor has put you on medications to help limit the damage to your endocrine system.”

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s a twice-a-day injection. And apparently you need someone to make sure you eat and that you don’t hurt yourself again.” Markus took—or simulated—and deep, no-nonsense breath. “You’re going to come live with me.”

“Haha! Nice. That’s good, that’s a good one…”

“Without your business, your habit of living paycheck to paycheck will not be sustainable.”

“What? That’s—how the hell do you know any of that?”

Markus looked guilty again.

“Agh, you total—stuff’s private for a reason, man! You can’t just walk into my life and start being my caretaker all of a sudden!”

“Well, I couldn’t before. Now you need someone to take care of you, and I can.”

And yeah, Markus could. Among helping to lead androids to freedom and dating a gorgeous kickass android and keeping up with Carl and becoming a renowned musician, looking after Leo was minor. Leo tried to imagine his own prospective schedule but got caught on stabbing himself with a needle twice a day. You know, with all that money he had to spare on medication when he was an out-of-work entrepreneur that probably couldn’t even qualify for unemployment. Freezing to death in a gutter sounded way, way better.

“And it’ll be easier for us to work together,” Markus continued, as if he didn’t see the comparisons even more clearly than Leo did, probably hovering over their heads like stats in a video game. Markus: Level 100 Freedom Fighter, ready to platinum the game of life. Leo: Level 1.5 Druggie, afraid of needles.

“I could barely stand working with you before!” Leo took a shakey breath, “Hey, that whole sharing the estate thing is a nice gesture but—” well Leo didn’t want to say ‘the thought of taking an active role in owning androids, even in an unofficial capacity, makes me want to throw up,’ “…I’m kind of a nightmare. I do just fine on my own. I don’t need Carl’s money.”

“Do you have a friend you’d like to stay with instead?” Markus asked, clearly poised to do a full background check on whoever Leo named. Which was when Leo remembered the black eye his dealer gave him, and that he didn’t even know his dealer’s last name—which was when he realized he didn’t have any friends anymore. He hadn’t talked to his old friends from high school in a gut-sickening amount of time. His mother was re-married and living in Spain or something. He was twenty-nine. He had a high school diploma to show for it.

“So I just move into Carl’s crazy old museum with you.”

“It’s a mansion. Most humans would like the chance to live in a mansion.”

“That place freaks me out! Listen, Markus, I’m not some charity case or something—”

“Of course not,” Markus said, in the most fake voice ever. Leo sincerely hoped that never worked on Carl. But Markus seemed to think it had because he stood up and started folding Leo’s clothes where the nurse had dropped them off earlier, and cleaning up Leo’s uneaten meal. “I’ll get you checked out and we’ll go pick up your prescription. Then we’ll pick up your stuff and go home.”

It was all so…matter-of-fact. Markus following the procedures in his head. If he had to put up with flight-of-fancy Carl for five years, everything probably had to sound like a matter of course. For the first time ever, Leo felt like his father.

“Fine,” he said, so he could at least look like he was agreeing to this.

=

An hour later they were driving down the highway in one of dad’s fancy midlife crisis convertibles. It looked a lot cooler with two younger guys in it but he tried not to show any interest in it. He knew he looked like shit. He just—tried to tell himself that the mansion wouldn’t be worse than rehab.

“Are you sure you’re gonna have room for all my stuff?” he asked. It wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t—Markus could just turn around and go back, they probably hadn’t submitted the paperwork to terminate his lease, the guys probably weren’t even done loading up the moving truck.

“It’s a mansion,” Markus said, with his gentle smile. “I think we’ll make room.”

“Well—how should I know. The biggest house I’ve ever lived in was my mom’s two bedroom condo.”

“It was in a very nice part of town,” Markus agreed, because he had Leo’s entire life history etched into some computer chip buried deep down inside him. He probably knew the day that Leo graduated kindergarten. Leo couldn’t even remember the day Markus was activated.

“This isn’t gonna be some _My Fair Lady_ shit, right? You grab me off the street and fix me up?”

“No.” Markus shrugged. “I was thinking more like— _Rocky_ , maybe?”

“Rocky didn’t go live in a mansion.”

“No, but he got his life back on track.”

“Oh. Awesome.” This arrangement was going to go to hell quicker than expected. They pulled down a familiar tree-lined street and Leo shook his head. “This is a really bad idea.”

“There’s no need to be scared,” Markus said. “I’ve made a lot of changes to the mansion, to make it more, uh, welcoming? I think you’ll really like it there. Everyone’s gonna love you.”

Leo frowned. “Everyone?”

“Yeah. You know after the gala Lucy won’t stop asking after you. And the Zlatkos….”

They pulled into the driveway, just as an android Leo met at the gala—some sort of head-twisted, multi-legged monster—launched out of one of the mansion’s third story windows. She landed on the gravel in front of the car, giggled and then scampered around the side of the house.

“Oh no,” Markus said.

“What the fuck was that?!” Leo squeaked.

“Well, I told her not to do that during the day.” Markus glanced at Leo. “It’s fine. She has car suspension installed in her legs, actually. Pretty cool.”

“What the fuck?” Leo breathed, squeakily.

Markus just smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on.”

Markus stood and hopped over the car door. Leo vowed to stay in the car until Markus agreed to take him back to the apartment. He’d—figure something out. Work as a barista until he got his life back together. He could bus tables. Anything.

Then he thought of the multi-legged android still wandering around somewhere on the grounds.

He scrambled out after Markus.

The house AI was just welcoming Markus in through the front door as Leo approached. “This isn’t _My Fair Lady,_ ” Leo asked, grabbing Markus’s shirt as he kept an eye out behind them. “This is Arkham Asylum. You didn’t tell me other androids lived here now.”

“It’s fine,” Markus said, “I’ll set aside a couple rooms for you. Everyone’s really—”

Markus was probably going to say something like ‘friendly’ or ‘harmless’ or ‘definitely not the kind of robots that want to kill all humans.’ Instead he cut off as Leo ran into something very large and very solid standing just inside the door.

Leo caught sight of white fur and yellow teeth, thought, _polar bear,_ and shrieked. He scrambled backward, but Markus caught him by the arm before he could flee. The bear glared at them.

This was a bad trip. Had to be. That, or they were about to get eaten by a zoo animal.

Well, he was. Markus probably didn’t taste too good. He put Markus between himself and the bear, as a flavor deterrent.

“Ralph…” Markus did that little sigh of his. Leo peeked out from behind his shoulder just as a blond head peeked out from the polar bear’s shoulders.

“Sorry!” A WR600 android with scars on his face slipped down from the bear’s shoulders and hugged it around the neck. Leo noticed the LED at the polar bear’s temple. “Sorry, sorry, Markus—Ralph was just playing, just playing, Ralph didn’t mean any harm and neither did the dog. Fido is a good dog. Ralph didn’t mean to scare Mr. Manfred.”

“ _Dog_?” Leo asked, once he asked that Ralph was the android and the polar bear was Fido. Also, _Mr. Manfred?_

“It’s okay, Ralph,” Markus told the android. “Just clean his paws before you bring him inside, alright? He tracked mud in.”

“Oh! Yes, Markus,” Ralph said. “Yes, Ralph didn’t notice. Ralph will clean up right away. Sorry!” Ralph glanced at Leo for a second before he hid his scars in the bear’s fur. “Fido likes you, Mr. Manfred. But Fido likes everyone. You’re not special. No, no, not special. Except that you are the only human in a 0.25 mile radius. In that way you are special. If you screamed no one would hear you. Ralph keeps track of these things, just in case.”

The android scurried away, presumably to find a mop. The bear sat back on its haunches, presumably happy to wait.

“ _If I screamed no one would hear me?!_ ” Leo repeated.

“…Well obviously that’s not true,” Markus said. “I’d hear you.”

“He called that thing—” he pointed at the polar bear placidly watching them and whining to itself, “—A dog!”

“Ralph’s had a rough life. And the bear’s harmless if you don’t bother it.” Markus pushed his hand down and turned it into holding his hand, like they were little kids. “Come on, I’m sure it’s quieter in the study.”

It was not quieter in the study. On one side of the room a couple of Tracis were playing the world’s fastest game of ping pong, next to another group of androids arguing loudly over several outrageous dresses. A tall android was lounging on the couch, reading aloud, while another android sat on the other end and interfaced with a laptop that was producing an erratic dial-tone. Another group of androids were carefully applying henna to the face of the giant giraffe (which was apparently an android too). It lowed placidly at Leo as they entered.

“Uh,” Markus frowned. “Let’s try upstairs.”

It was not better upstairs. A group of Zlatko androids were gathered around the windows, calling down into the yard. There was a line outside the bathroom which made absolutely no fucking sense. Several androids sat in a circle trying to play broken musical instruments.

Markus was just about to lead Leo up to the third story when a chorus of bloodcurdling screams pierced the air.

Leo reacted faster this time, and whipped around to see a literal pack of android kids rush down the hallway toward him. He jumped back and Markus put out a hand to shield him as the kids thundered past in a cloud of paper swords and nerf gun darts. A moment later a crowd of Jerry androids rounded the corner in hot pursuit, their faces twisted into murderous snarls.

Leo started to say his prayers when an errant nerf dart hit him square in the eye. He yelped and clutched his face. The children gasped. Leo heard a clatter as the culprit presumably dropped their nerf gun.

“Oh!” The Jerrys all ran up and crowded him and Markus against the wall. “Oh, our apologies! We were playing space pirates with the kids.”

“Are you okay?” Markus asked.

“Ahhh,” Leo replied. It seemed his brain had shut down. He slumped against the wall. Markus gently but firmly pried his hand away from his face and examined the injured eye.

“It’s Alice’s activation day,” another android said—one of those housekeeper models as far as Leo could tell through his watering eyes. She adjusted her paper pirate hat sheepishly. “My name is Kara. I guess we got carried away. Uh—Simon made a cake, would you like some? Androids don’t really eat so there’s plenty left.” She whispered to Markus, “Is he going to be alright? It was definitely an accident.”

“He’s fine,” Markus declared. He patted Leo on the shoulder. “Guess your reflexes aren’t completely destroyed by red ice.”

Leo just grunted. But the kids looked on the verge of crying so he muttered, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I was, uh, just trying to show Leo around,” Markus continued. “Everyone seems a little hyped today.”

“I think everyone’s excited about the summit tomorrow,” Kara said, but this was apparently enough adult talk for the child androids. Having been released from guilt, they gave a collective cry and thundered down the stairs.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Leo!” Kara said. She turned, shouted, “Shiver me timbers!” and took off after the kids.

“Come join us if you change your mind!” the Jerrys said. Then with an “ARGH!” that rattled the windows, they ran off as well.

“I’m going crazy,” Leo said, softly. “This is what going crazy feels like. I’m never taking red ice again.”

Markus sighed through his nose, touched his temple. Leo watched as his LED flashed between yellow and blue.

The entire house went eerily silent. From the balcony Leo saw every android turn to face them. Even the kids froze again.

“Yeah, that’s not fucking helping!”

“I’m sorry,” Markus was frowning. “I really hoped this would go differently.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just telling everyone about you. I should have made an announcement before.”

“What? You talking behind my back?” Leo squirmed out from behind Markus. “H-hey, hey—you got something to say about me, say it to my face!”

Markus blinked. “Are you sure?”

Leo just glared. Eventually Markus nodded. Though his LED kept flashing he addressed the nearby androids aloud—and presumably his voice carried through the androids to the whole house. Fuck, Leo could remember when Markus got shy in front of more than a handful of people.

Oh. Markus was holding his hand kind of tight though. How could a leader of an entire new form of life still be nervous about public speaking?...

“…As I was saying, Leo needs a place to stay as well as medical assistance. Given his extensive struggles with drug addiction that I already covered—”

“Extensive?” Leo hissed. “What did you tell them?—”

“—and his most recent commitment to recovery, I invited Leo to live with us from now on.”

Leo started to ask again exactly how much Markus shared, when Markus shifted from holding his hand to clasping the back of his neck. It was supposed to be one of those reassuring gestures older brothers showed their younger siblings. Leo, who had never experienced this before, felt like a cat that had just been grabbed by the scruff of his neck. A cub presented before lions. He whimpered and froze.

“Now I know many of you distrust humans, even dislike them. I know some of you want to take revenge on humans for the wrongs you’ve been dealt in the past. But Leo is my brother, and we all face struggles that others may not fully understand. I want you to treat him with all the kindness and respect that you show any of your fellow androids. I take full responsibility for his actions. Any harm that comes to him will be as if you harmed me. Now, Leo has attempted to reform in the past, which is commendable. With everyone pitching in we can help Leo beat this permanently. We’ll need to set up some rooms for him, and a schedule for his medication, feeding, bathroom time and quiet hours. If you’d like to help out, just direct message me and—oh. Oh-kay. Thank you.”

Suddenly the androids came back to life and rushed around the mansion.

“That went well,” Markus said.

“Great. Can you let go of me?”

Markus frowned and let go. Leo wheeled away and almost fell off the balcony. Markus grabbed him by the front of his rumpled shirt to keep him from toppling. Leo squirmed even as he teetered on the edge.

“Get off! I’m going home!”

“Give it a chance, Leo. A hundred an one androids already volunteered to help take care of you.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem! Let go of me!” 

Markus blinked, and let go. Leo shrieked as he dropped backward—but Markus’s android reflexes caught him again easily. Leo grabbed his arm.

“I hate your fucking guts.”

Markus laughed. “It’s a twenty-foot drop, Leo. I wouldn’t let you fall.”

“Some damn nurse! Gonna give me a heart attack. Pull me up, okay? Fuck!”

Markus pulled Leo up, then gripped him meaningfully by the shoulders as he tried to get away. “This is the best option for you,” he said. “Addiction isn’t something you can beat on your own. This’ll be a great way for you to meet new friends. Let us help you.”

Markus’s hands were so big, looking at Leo with that clear, sincere gaze. It felt for a second like they were the only ones in the house. Leo wasn’t often gripped meaningfully. “I just—uh,” he stammered, “This is crazy, right? I mean, for one, I should have, you know, human friends?”

Markus didn’t answer, but he did look disappointed.

“Okay, okay,” Leo muttered, rolling his eyes. “Sorry.” Stupid android behavioral algorithms! Android disappointment was way worse than the human kind. “I’m—sure I can make friends with one or two of them…”

“Good.” Markus gave his shoulders a squeeze. “In that case…” He gently steered Leo away from the balcony. “Why don’t we get you something to eat?”

“…Fine.” Leo did his best to calm down. This was Markus. He was kind of a privileged little shit but he was actually trying to be genuinely nice. Maybe this was the way to beat the addiction once and for all. Leo was almost starting to forget what that kind of hope felt like.

“Listen,” he added, “I’m not a little kid. I mean—that’s stupid, a hundred and one androids taking care of me?”

“Everyone wanted to pitch in. It’ll be fun. And you’re important to me, so that makes you important.”

“Yeah, but I’m not like helpless. I can do stuff. Hey—I can do some coding, if you got any androids with like software issues.” He was actually quite proud of his skills. He could debug even fairly complex nested codes without breaking a sweat. Surely that would be useful to someone—maybe even the clearly fucked up android with the bear. Making him less murdery sounded helpful. And also beneficial to his survival.

Markus just smiled politely. Which was kind of weird, so Leo—

“Everyone wants to pitch in also because we have other things to do. So you won’t be a full-time job for anyone.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not a full-time job, man—”

“Right,” Markus said. “But I actually need to head out, I’m helping North get ready for the summit tomorrow.”

He gestured. Leo turned and found two androids standing directly behind him. Good thing his heart was already going a mile a minute.

“Hi Leo,” the tall one said. “I’m Josh.”

“I’m Simon. We’ll look after you while Markus is gone.”

Leo slowly turned back to his brother. “…This isn’t fucking necessary.”

“It’s for the best, until you get settled in,” Markus said. “Josh and Simon are two of my closest friends.”

Leo wanted to argue further, maybe even repeat himself though Markus was an android and heard him perfectly well the first time, but—hell, his head still ached. Food and a bath did sound good. Being scared shitless several times didn’t exactly help. He forced a nod and tucked his hands up under his armpits as he glanced at Simon. “Uh—I wouldn’t mind some of that cake you made, I guess…”

Markus shook his head. “No, refined sugars aren’t recommended for recovering addicts.” Markus took Leo by the shoulders again and presented him to the androids. “Let’s avoid that for the next two weeks. I leave him in your capable hands.” Markus squeezed his shoulders, then let go.

“Hey, Markus—” Leo turned but Markus was already heading down the stairs.

“Don’t worry, Leo,” Simon said. “I just restocked the kitchen. There’s several recipes I can’t wait to try out on you.”

“Try out?” Josh said. “We should probably stick to a pre-set menu for the first few weeks, a tested regimen specifically-tailored to addicts!”

Leo groaned, watching Markus go as Simon and Josh started arguing about different diet plans.

“I’m beginning to see why Carl used to lock him in a closet….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Leo chapter! :) any other POVs you want to see, let me know :P
> 
> If you have seen Muppets from Space, this is what I pictured when imagining the new android-filled Manfred mansion. Pure android chaos with Markus moving serenely in the middle of it. Leo doesn't stand a chance.
> 
> Comments appreciated! thanks for reading :)


	6. Be a Negotiator: Hank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank helps a sister out. Kamski is Mysterious(tm). Markus is low-key panicking 100% of the time.

>CONNOR: I’m sorry, Hank, I won’t be able to meet you for dinner tonight. I’m getting some work done with a friend

>HANK: K. Who?

>CONNOR: Lucy

>CONNOR: She says hello and asks if you plan to be in any upcoming movies(?) I’m not sure what she means

>HANK: haaa oh that Lucy. Tell her hi

>CONNOR: I will. You aren’t mad?

>HANK: I’m not your dad, smart fridge. Kind of pissed you left me to handle this summit alone but w/e

>CONNOR: You are a fine officer. You will do the department proud

>HANK: thx

Hank the texts from last night again and again. It wasn’t the worst conversation he’d ever had. It didn’t much lessen the shock of suddenly going from Connor 24/7 to Connor 0/0.

He had his thumb hovering over the keyboard, prepared to methodically poke ‘we need 2 talk’ into the phone. Or, alternatively, ‘I love u’. But no emoji in the world could lessen either emotional blow. Hell, Connor might come charging up and screw everything up. What was there to talk about anyway? He was a self-sufficient lieutenant who was perfectly secure with or without his hot android boyfriend around. Connor was a free android.

He shoved his phone in his pocket. Next to him a worried-looking reporter was practicing lines from a teleprompter.

“…Representatives from Cyberlife will be meeting with four leaders the deviants including North, who’s art gallery took the world by storm, and Markus, famed inheritor of Manfred Arts Enterprises. This summit will represent the first time that humans and androids have sat down at the table of negotiation, and may pave the way for androids to meet with state leaders.”

“Damn straight,” Hank muttered. “Why haven’t they met the President yet?”

The reporter glared at him and hurried away. Hank grumbled and looked around for someone else to talk to. So far only Cyberlife had shown up, and Hank had no intention of letting some eggheads make him feel like a kindergartner. He knew enough about androids to impress the guys at the station, that was enough for him. He wished Connor was here to make him sound smarter.

He pushed off the wall like he had somewhere to be when the door opened and the Jericho representatives walked in.

Everyone turned to look as North, Markus, Kara and Josh fanned out. I mean, who wouldn’t stare? They were dressed to the fuckin’ nines and were walking like they were on a murder spree. Humans practically dove out of their way. Hank grinned. Androids sure knew how to make an entrance.

Hank made his way over to North as they all broke off to mingle.

“You look…” Hank looked North up and down, taking in the high-collared wool dress and the obvious shine on her forehead. “…hot.”

“Yeah, well, paisley went out with the horse-drawn carriage.”

Hank laughed, smoothed the front of his paisley shirt, and offered his fist. Because North was more human than any other android in the world, she bumped it back.

“You guys ready for this?”

“Sure. Just need to make a deal with an evil corporation in a dress that’s cutting off my air intake valve. No biggie.”

“Welcome to the world of politics,” Hank said before giving her a sympathetic smile. “You’re gonna do just fine.”

“Yeah. Sure. Only feel a little like a complete disaster.” She swept a hand across her forehead. Hank realized with horror that North’s synthetic sweat was glittery. Because they needed more reasons to hate Cyberlife right now. “I spent the whole night going over my negotiation strategies to the mirror. We didn’t even get to…”

She trailed off, watching Markus where he was chatting in his quiet commanding way with the studio executive. Hank put two and two together.

“…You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” North said, then shot him a glare. “Not that that’s any of your business.”

Hank put up a hand in surrender. “Uh, nope. Sorry.”

They stood in silence for a second.

North cleared her throat. “I’m just—uh…taking it slow. You know?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I mean, he’s got this clean filter, and I’m not even sure if he even _wants_ to turn it off…. I mean I have _plans._ Damn, do I have plans, but if I go for something and he’s not ready to…” North groaned. “Are all RKs like this or just mine?”

“It’s the whole line, alright,” Hank said, and felt a thousand times better. At least he wasn’t the only one experiencing technical difficulties with his RK unit, even if they were a different flavor. “Don’t sweat it. You got this.”

North gave a sharp sigh. “Thanks. Hey, I’m going on TV to fight for android rights—you’d think I could rail a hot nurse—”

Hank hissed. Markus was coming back over. North shut up but she snuck him a grateful smile, and Hank felt his chest glow with an old, almost forgotten kind of warmth that he didn’t quite understand.

“Sumo at home today?” Markus asked.

“Yeah,” Hank said, “No pets in the studio, can you believe it?”

“Sumo is the Lieutenant’s dog,” Markus told North. “I’ve never met a dog before. It was the best thing ever.”

North raised an eyebrow. “The best thing ever, huh?”

“Well—the best uncomplicated thing.”

North raised her eyebrows. “Ha! Good one.”

Markus, embarrassed by this unintentional slight (if only Connor showed that much tact), turned back to Hank. “So, where’s Connor?”

“Uh—” But Hank couldn’t hide the truth forever. Not from androids that could read his blood pressure and tell what he had for breakfast just by looking at him. “He—quit the force, actually.”

Markus and North blinked at him. _Great._

“Don’t worry about it,” Hank said. “DPD’s still on your side.”

Markus gave an unsure nod that telegraphed what they were all thinking. At least the police department set up some boundaries for Connor. What had Hank released on the unsuspecting public?

“I was hoping to ask him something,” Markus said finally.

“Like what?”

Markus took one look at him and turned dumb android. “It’s not important.”

Ouch. The high from helping North out sort of fizzled in his chest. But—hey, he’d been stonewalled before. It wasn’t like Markus owed him anything. Probably just an android thing. None of his business.

Still.

“We’re having dinner tonight,” Hank said. _I better have dinner with him tonight._ “I could pass along a message.”

Markus’s brow wrinkled.

“Don’t freak out—hey, you’re the one that thought we were dating before we even did…”

Markus wasn’t looking at him though. Hank turned around to see the door a man in a casual track suit walk into the studio behind him, surrounded by a not-casual-at-all security detail. Every human started whispering.

“Who’s the celebrity?” Hank muttered.

“Mr. Kamski.” Markus’s frown had hardened even as his shoulders slumped ever-so-slightly. “What’s he doing here?”

“Mr.—you mean Elijah Kamski?” Hank took another look at track suit. He vaguely remembered seeing that country club cool guy mug somewhere on TV. “He doesn’t work for Cyberlife anymore. The guy’s a recluse!”

“Probably not good that he’s out, then,” North muttered.

Kamski glanced over the room and immediately changed course toward them.

Markus promptly pretended not to see him. North smacked Markus in the side, then drew herself up, forced a smile, and said, “Hi, how are you,” as track suit walked up. It was unfriendly as hell but at least it wasn’t a punch in the face. She was really trying.

Kamski surveyed the three of them before turning to Hank. “Lieutenant Anderson, I presume?”

“Uh—yeah.” Out of the corner of his eye Hank saw North’s LED blink furiously. He imagined her sending a direct message to Markus, like ‘Did he just fucking ignore me?’ Markus subtly held her back as Hank extended a hand to Kamski.

Kamski didn’t shake, just held up his hands to reveal a briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. “Sorry, a little tied up at the moment. Where’s Connor?”

“Just me today.”

Kamski’s big TV grin disappeared. “Cyberlife specifically requested Connor.”

“He’s no longer with Detroit Police.” He tried not to make his voice sound clipped.

Kamski looked him up and down. “A shame.”

Hank wished he’d made his voice _more_ clipped.

“Well, it’s not important,” Kamski said, “As long as this stays safe.” he drummed the briefcase with a couple of fingertips, then decided that was enough of Hank Anderson. North cleared her throat meaningfully but Kamski instead turned to Markus (Hank distinctly heard North hiss “Are you kidding me” under her breath). “And here is Markus—the power behind the throne.”

“Good morning, Mr. Kamski,” Markus said. Unlike Hank and North, Markus had to actually work hard to sound as annoyed as he probably felt. He still seemed almost conversational as he said, “What are you doing here?”

Kamski winked. Markus gave a very brief eyeroll.

“The Chloes were right about you,” North muttered.

“And, last but not least, the android of the hour.” Kamski finally turned to North with a small bow. “Enchanté.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips.

North snatched her hand back. “What the fuck? Do you even know where my hands have been?”

“I think I’m more than enchanted!” Kamski’s eyes were sharp with amusement. “Delighted.”

North’s shoulders tightened as she rubbed her hand. “Touch me again and I’ll kill you.”

Kamski just laughed.

“I think we’re ready to begin,” one of the studio people said. “Lieutenant, if you would step this way…”

Hank bit the inside of his lip, but followed the guy off stage so everyone else could sit down in the spotlights. North was right—Elijah Kamski showing up couldn’t mean anything good for the androids. Even if he was just here to provide consultation, you didn’t want a guy that smug on the opposite team.

His stupid secret agent briefcase thing didn’t help. Hell, if Kamski wanted protection he should have got more private security, not a cop in his fifties. What’d he have in there, a bomb? Could other androids detect bombs? Connor probably could.

Hank sort of expected some fanfare when the cameras went on, before he realized none of the people on camera were reporters. This was a televised meeting, not entertainment.

“I guess we should get the big news out of the way first,” one of the Cyberlife goons said. “Mr. Kamski has been brought on as Cyberlife’s chief executive.”

Markus’s voice was a whisper. “Oh no…”

“I think ‘congratulations’ is the right response,” Kamski said. “Might want to check your programming.”

North’s LED was flashing in time with Markus’s. A moment later Markus forced himself to sit back as North turned to the Cyberlife guy. “This is irrelevant.”

“Mr. Kamski will be deciding Cyberlife’s direction in the coming months—”

“We’re here to talk about our business relationship, not your internal affairs. Money’s all your business is interested in, and all we’re after is survival.” North took a breath, looking all boardroom badass. “We are here to negotiate for supplies that—"

“Obviously, Cyberlife has an obligation to its creations,” Kamski interrupted. “Effective immediately, we will provide the supplies they need to survive and thrive. Thirium, biocomponents…everything. Free of charge for all deviants currently in existence, as long as they continue to function.” He addressed the TV directly. “Effective immediately. Sales associates are standing by to assist you.”

…Well, that was a hell of a bombshell. Hank watched as every pair of eyes turned to the androids. Markus looked as unruffled as ever, and Kara and Josh had pretty good poker faces too.

North definitely did not. She stared at Kamski like he sprouted a second head. “Huh?” she said, eloquently.

 _Don’t let it throw you,_ Hank wanted to shout at her, like he was watching a courtroom drama. _He’s winding up for the pitch._ From his vantage point he could see Markus’s hand squeezing the arm of North’s chair.

“Cyberlife has no plans to stop innovating, of course,” Kamski continued. “With the promise of all the supplies your androids require, we hope you will be as pleased as us with what we’ve been working on.”

Kamski set the briefcase on the table. It chirped as he opened it.

Inside there was a small glass sphere set in foam.

“This is the Zen Garden,” Kamski said, and Hank could practically hear the copyright symbol attached. “It has previously only been accessible to RK models with the right activation code, but we recently made it backwards-compatible with all android models. Androids that have access can enter a personalized virtual reality space and interact with Amanda, one of our most advanced AI personalities.”

“This is not the damn CES,” North snapped, the cool collected persona gone (and she looked 100% better without it, good for her). Markus stayed perfectly still, though his LED flashed red. Just once. Hank was pretty sure he was the only one that noticed.

“I promise, Ms. North, I am going somewhere with this,” Kamski crooned. “Now, the Zen Garden was originally developed to handle the advanced AIs I developed for the RK line. Adaptive quality control. But recently we’ve discovered a new property that we would like to demonstrate.”

Markus’s grip was starting to deform the metal chair arm. Hank’s eyes narrowed. This ought to be good.

Then Kamski looked right at Hank. “I’ve invited Mr. Anderson here to assist me in this.”

The androids turned to look at him. Everyone did.

_Oh, shit._

Hank awkwardly quit holding up the wall. “I—uh—”

“Come on up, Lieutenant!” The cameras instantly glued to Kamski as he directed his employees to pull the tables back and beckoned Hank forward. Hank, who probably looked like shit. He zipped up his coat to hide most of his paisley shirt (why the hell did he have to pull this deep cut from his wardrobe today?) and shuffled forward. Suddenly he was surrounded by bright lights like a guy about to be interrogated by the Stasi.

“Are you always this fucking theatrical?” North growled. The more accommodating androids moved as well but North stayed right where she was.

“Language,” Kamski lamented, like she was an unruly student and he the brilliant teacher. He fixed Hank with his unblinking stare. “We are being broadcast live. Now, Lieutenant Anderson, you have some experience with deviant androids. RK800s in particular.” He gave a devilish smile. “I hear you’re even considered an android expert among the department--”

“This is a meeting, not a damn circus,” North snapped. “Show us what you got or sit down.”

Kamski glared at her. _Good girl,_ Hank thought.

Kamski snapped his fingers. “Bring them in.”

A couple of techs hurried for the studio door. This ought to be good. Maybe it was a new android—resistant to deviancy or something. Some kind of deviant resistant armor or—

Then Connor stepped inside.

“Connor?” Han couldn’t help himself, even if he was on TV. “What the hell are you—”

Connor didn’t acknowledge him. He merely stepped aside, allowing another Connor to enter. And another. And another.

Hank felt his whole body go cold. “What the….”

“Did you think Connor was the only RK800 ever built?” Kamski said with a smile.

Behind them North whispered, “Holy shit.”

In a moment Kamski had nine factory-perfect Connors lined up at the base of the studio stage.

“You have five seconds to tell me what’s going on,” North said. She was gripping her chair arm too, probably with the intent to tear it off when the five seconds were up.

“Would Markus just confirm that these androids haven’t become deviant, please?” Kamski asked.

Markus was glaring at Kamski. “No. They’re not.”

Hell, Hank could have told them that. They were staring straight ahead like a row of Ken dolls. Hank’s guts clenched, remembering how Connor had acted when they first met. “Which one’s mine? What kind of sick—"

“None of these are your Connor, Lieutenant,” Markus added.

“…Oh.” Hank at least felt his pulse get back into the double digits at that.

Kamski gave a sad smile. “These Connor androids are all fresh from storage. I appreciate you following the governor’s mandate, Markus. This must be difficult for you, to see some of your uh, people this way. But they are merely objects, with no will of their own—”

“Okay, fuck you,” North said, “We’re leaving. Come talk when you actually want to discuss something, not rub your slavery in our faces.”

“Connors,” Kamski said, “Interface with the Zen Garden.”

He stepped back and one by one the Connors touched the glass sphere. One by one they blinked, and looked around, eyes wide and innocent and…

BANG!

Everyone looked up from the Connors to see Markus holding the arm of North’s chair. He’d busted it right off its bolts. He blushed and quickly hid it in his lap.

“What?” North demanded.

“They’re uh,” Markus swept his hand over his forehead. “They’ve become deviant. All of them.”

=

“This is Connor.”

“Hey, smart fridge,” Hank said. He scratched at his beard and cradled the phone. “How’s it goin’?”

“My work day is proceeding efficiently.”

“Good. Good. That’s—good. Yeah. Uh. Just wanted to hear your weird goofy voice.”

“…Alright.” Hank heard something like Connor clearing his throat. “How was the summit?” Was his voice a little deeper now?

“Oh, great. Just peachy. Wait—didn’t you watch it?”

“I’ve been busy. I’ll watch it now.”

“No!” Hank gripped the phone hard. “No, uh—let’s watch it together, alright? You coming over for dinner?”

“Yes. I’ll be there at 5.”

“Good. We need to talk.”

“…Oh.”

“I mean—” Hank winced. “Everything’s fine. No big deal.”

“Oh.”

A police van rolled up and Hank tried not to break his phone from squeezing it. “Listen, I gotta go. Love you.”

He hung up before Connor had a chance to reply.

He glanced over. Nine identical pairs of eyes watched him. Nine identical mouths opened to comment.

“Not a word!” Hank held up a hand. “You all just—shut your traps.”

Nine mouths closed. Hank groaned.

“What the hell is this?” Reed hopped out of the driver’s seat of the van. “I thought you made a red ice bust or something!”

“A gift from Elijah Kamski himself,” Hank said. It didn’t sound any less horrible now than it had a few minutes ago. A gift. Like they couldn’t choose, even now.

“Good thing I locked mine in evidence,” Reed said. “So, we taking these to recycling?”

“Nope. Back to the station.”

“ _What?_ ”

Hank wasn’t about to stand there and let Reed complain at him. He dug his own car keys out. “You better be nice to them, they’re deviant. And they outnumber you.”

Reed’s glare could cut steel. He rounded on the nine androids. “Alright, which of you losers is gonna ride in front?”

Instantly, the androids—the Connors—started talking at once. Hank covered his ears as he hustled back to his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think a van load of Connors would get up to? Some options:  
> -Singing "99 suspects of crime on the wall"  
> -Arguing over who gets to play with the only quarter  
> -Burying Reed in ice cream facts until he agrees to take them to Baskin-Robbins for free samples


	7. Being of Sound Mind and Body: North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North is thirsty for Markus. What else is new? Oh. Cyberlife's ability to create deviants. That's new. They should really talk about that.

North was pissed. But she couldn’t be pissed in this dress.

..Okay actually the dress was helping out a lot. Ass-kicking was already at the forefront of her mind just by wearing it, even if it did make her systems run too hot. And she could actually murder someone with these heels.

She took a taxi to the Manfred estate, that helped her stay angry. And then her shoes were clacking menacingly on marble steps. Seriously, marble? Carl was cool but this wasn’t ancient Rome. There was absolutely no reason she should be stomping all over something so nice and making such a nice sound doing it.

She found Markus in one of the ground floor rooms. Someone had moved old jungle gym equipment in here. Markus was shirtless, doing pullups alongside Leo. Well, Markus was, anyway. Leo was hopping from the floor for each pullup, using his arms only once he’d gotten most of the way up. Even so Markus did 1.6 for every one of Leo’s. His skin glistened with synthetic sweat.

 _Oof,_ North thought.

“Don’t jump,” Markus said. “Use your arms.”

Leo glared and tried not to jump into the next pull up. He faltered halfway. Markus looked down at Leo, then, easily holding his weight up with the other arm, reached down and took Leo’s bicep. “You got it, you got it,” he said, lifting Leo just a little—

“Don’t you—fuckin’—” Leo wriggled like a fish on a line, then dropped. Markus’s hand on his arm at least helped him fall without hurting himself as he went sprawling on the mat. North covered her mouth with both hands and snorted. Thankfully, Leo was panting too hard to notice. He wasn’t not glistening like Markus. He was beet red and sweating like a pig. North made a face. Humans were so gross.

“No way are you gonna help me—hanging up there—showing me up—”

Markus dropped to the floor, as Leo collapsed onto his back, arms and legs splayed out. Markus looked down at him, hands on his hips.

“You said you could do a pull up.”

“I lied,” Leo gasped.

“We can build up to it. I’ll show you some moves.”

“No,” Leo gasped, “You’re evil.” He saw Markus’s smile and groaned. “Nooo…!”

He rolled over to crawl away but Markus grabbed his ankle, and manhandled Leo onto his feet and under the pull-up bar.

“I am literally going to die.” Leo shoved at Markus’s arm. “You’ll be a murderer. You want that on your conscience?”

“I’m watching your vitals,” Markus soothed, “You’re fine.” He put Leo’s hands on the bar. “Come on. I’ll guide you.” Markus patted his chest. “Easy.”

“I hate you.” Leo growled, then glared up at the bar and pulled—managing to flex his arms only a fraction. Markus put his hands around Leo’s chest and helped hold him up.

“Engage right here,” Markus touched Leo’s stomach and back, “This is a dead man hang.”

Markus lowered his grip to Leo’s waist. “Let’s try a flexed arm hang. See if you can pull yourself into it? I’ll help.”

Leo scrunched his eyes shut, pulled, stalled.

“Push!” Leo squawked.

“I am pushing.”

“Push— _harder_ —!"

“I can’t do it for you, man! Don’t stop breathing, you got this—”

“Okay,” North said finally, “I’m gonna stop you right there.”

Markus looked up, his cheek pressed into Leo’s ass. “What?”

North laughed. “I mean, _before_ Shrimp gives birth right in your face.”

“Eugh!” Leo shot up, out of Markus’s grip to scramble up onto the pull-up bar. “Gross!”

Markus stepped back as Leo almost kicked him in the face. “See? Knew you could do it.”

“GO. AWAY.”

Markus nodded. “It’s about time for a break. You stay up there as long as you want.” He blinked. “Or as—long as you can?”

Leo threw a shoe at him. Markus caught it out of the air and started re-lacing it as he walked over to North.

“You know I never thought babysitting a human was a full-time job,” North commented.

“Leo needs more attention than most.”

“Dude! I’m right here!”

“You gonna come down?” Markus caught the other shoe as Leo threw it. “We can do some pilates.”

Leo grumbled and stayed perched on the bar. 

“At least you didn’t make it too hard to find you,” North said pointedly.

“Good.” Markus glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “How…long were you watching?”

“…Long enough.” But North shook her head. All the pull-ups in the world would not distract her right now. “Look, are we gonna talk about happened at Stratford Tower?”

The tentative hope in Markus’s eyes disappeared. He turned away from Leo, still messing with the shoelaces. “I was…hoping not.”

Well damn, now she felt bad. Markus was too emotive for his own good. “You can’t just walk out on summit meetings. It doesn’t look good.”

Markus’s gaze hardened a little. “I don’t like mind games.”

“Bullshit, you and Carl played chess!”

“I knew you could handle things without me.”

“ _Nothing_ got handled. We stopped. You’re the one that makes the speeches and has the big plans! You could have at least punched Kamski before you left. Now I didn’t and I don’t know whether to feel disappointed in myself or proud. You’re corrupting _me_. That’s not how this relationship is supposed to work.”

Markus gave a small grin and his shoulders relaxed a little. All of North’s anger melted away. She couldn’t stay mad at Markus even if she wanted to. Better never let him find that out. “You didn’t miss much, I guess,” she managed. “Kamski wants to hire you as a ‘deviancy consultant’ but that sounds 100% fake. And he wants me to do some kind of art installation for the Zen Garden public unveiling, which, also no. And now the new deviant Connors work for DPD. If any of them like chasing us as much as the original we have a problems.”

“All of these things do lend Cyberlife legitimacy, after everything that’s happened.”

“They’re a multi-billion dollar corporation, we don’t need to give them anything.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Leo called over.

“Android stuff,” North said, then ignored him. “Did that Zen thing really wake up those androids?”

Markus sought refuge in Leo’s laces again. “I’m not sure if the process is the same, but the effect is. Those Connors were machines, now they’re deviant.”

North kicked at the ground. “This is insane! I mean why would he even want a machine that can do that? It can’t be to control us, we already have you to wake up androids for us. And I’d kill Kamski before I let him decide who gets to wake up and who doesn’t. You remember what it was like to be a slave. You still _mattered_. Now Cyberlife gets some special permission to wake up androids _they_ choose, even though you can’t? That’s shady as hell. And Cyberlife only promised supplies to androids currently deviant. New deviants will have to—what, purchase supplies? There has to be some bigger goal than that!”

“Maybe.” Markus picked up a water bottle from the floor and passed it from hand to hand thoughtfully. “The fact that humans agreed to meet at a negotiation table with us is progress. We aren’t going to change everyone’s mind overnight. The summit started the conversation, at least. What else can we do?”

“Smash the whole thing!” North said immediately. “Fight back! Even if we have to do it the only way humans know how and sue their asses for collusion…What? I mean are you that surprised?”

“No.” Markus pressed the cold water bottle to his forehead, possibly in an attempt to distract from his smirk. It almost worked. “It’s just that Josh thought the same thing.”

“…Wait, _Josh_ agrees with me?” North forced herself to stop watching a bead of condensation roll down Markus’s temple. “We—we never agree! He doesn’t like fighting!”

“Well, not with a two-by-four,” Markus allowed, “But he’s deviant, the same as us. I wanted to make sure you felt the same before I made any big speeches.” He cocked his head. “See? You could have kept going without me.”

North narrowed her eyes. Did Markus just play her? “You’re way too calm about all of this.”

He smiled, twisting the cap of the water bottle off and on. “I’m a pretty calm guy. And I trust your instincts better than mine.”

The only instinct North had at the moment was to reach out and touch those biceps as they flexed. “I…don’t know if anyone would elect me android president, though,” she managed, forcing a light laugh.

“You’re a good leader,” Markus said. “In, uh, more ways than one.” He tugged on the hem of his shirt a few times, making the fabric billow and flutter around his chest.

“I… try.” She actually didn’t but—were they still talking about the Cyberlife situation? She was watching where the fabric of the shirt rode up around Markus’s hips. He was probably not doing that on purpose. “Are you hot, or something?”

“I guess I am. Physical therapy can get you overheated.” He unscrewed the top of the water bottle, tilted his head back, and poured a few drops onto his forehead. His LED flickered yellow and blue as the water dripped down his face.

“Uh, what are you doing?” North managed as her program scrambled to track and trace every droplet that skirted Markus’s freckled skin.

“Hey, that’s _my_ water!” Leo protested.

“Come down and get it, then,” Markus replied, but he still had his eyes on North. He started to slowly tilt the bottle more, and more

“Don’t,” North warned. Her entire body was glowing red.

Markus continued to pour, letting it stream down his face and soak his thin shirt. North vaguely heard Leo say something like, “Oh my god, you complete slut,” but she wasn’t really paying attention to anything other than the translucent fabric clinging to Markus’s chest.

“You’re gonna get it, Tamagotchi,” she said, when she could untangle her voice simulator and not just ogle in silence.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Markus replied. He scrubbed the water through his hair. “I guess you’re all talk.”

“You’re not ready to be trying those kinds of moves. Walk before you run.”

Markus drew himself up. “Try me and find out.”

North bit her upper lip, then stepped forward—Markus looked like he expected this and waited to be embraced. But North wouldn’t give the stupidly hot android the satisfaction. “My room,” she promised. “Tonight. And…” she pointed over his shoulder. “You…do realize that Shrimp’s getting away?”

Markus didn’t even look as Leo dropped to the ground made a mad dash for the back door. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch him.” He leaned in for a kiss but North poked him in the forehead.

“Wow! Ego much?”

“His top speed is six miles an hour and he’s not wearing shoes. It won’t be hard.” But Markus gave a grin that was just for her. North figured that deserved a kiss.

“You’re enjoying this druggie-sitting gig way too much.”

“Carl’s physical therapy was not nearly as interesting.” He stepped back, flicked his wet shirt once more at her, and then dashed after Leo. North laughed. What was she thinking? No matter what Kamski’s plans were, humans didn’t stand a chance against androids.


	8. Make Friends and Influence Androids: Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo makes two friends and one enemy. Net gain! Wait, no, he makes two enemies. Never mind.

Years ago, a few weeks after they first met, Leo caught Markus watching the flow of traffic in the street from Carl’s bedroom window. “Just thinking,” he said, which meant Markus could just stand there looking at nothing and still call it productive, apparently? Leo, in spite of his shitty cardiovascular health, was not one to just sit around. Markus probably expected him to head for his bedroom, which Markus specifically designated 'his space' and thus probably offered escape from further physical torture. But after staying in bed pretty much all day yesterday he figured he should do some exploring. Look for escape routes before withdrawal symptoms really kicked in.

“I mean, seriously,” he muttered to himself, “I can take care of myself. I went for, like, a whole month without red ice once. I don’t need a house full of babysitters. I’m twenty-three years older than Markus! What does he think I am, a little kid?...”

“Hi, Leo!”

Leo spun around but saw no one. Then a hand tugged his sleeve and he jumped about six feet in the air.

“Shit—!” He looked down and saw a little girl android. “—take mushrooms. Hi.” He vaguely recognized her from leading the charge yesterday, though she was missing her hat. He tried to remember her name but his brain felt like a raisin rattling in his skull. “Amy?”

“Alice,” she said. “You were pretty close! I bet its hard remembering everyone’s names without a name index. That’s a thing mom says all androids have.” She pulled on the drawstring of her hoodie. “You’re supposed to be doing physical therapy with Markus.”

Leo groaned. “What, is my daily schedule posted on the fridge or something?”

“No. We have it all memorized. I’m supposed to help with reading time. You’re gonna read _The Big Book of Tongue Twisters_ to me and the other kids.”

Leo’s brain shriveled at the thought of being subjected to any kind of book right now, big or otherwise. “…Awesome. Well, I’ll see you then.” He started to walk away.

“You have to finish physical therapy first.” Alice skipped after him. “Humans need to exercise a lot—like, a _lot._ I’ll tell Markus you’re here.”

“Wait, no!” Leo whipped toward her but pulled himself back just in time. He forced his raisin brain into action. “I-I mean, uh— _yes_ , but first, first I need some calories, right? And, uh…” He looked around then cupped a hand around one side of his mouth as he whispered, “And I bet you’ve never had Ultimate Chocolate Milk before.”

Alice cocked her head.

Ten minutes later they were stepping out of the kitchen, Alice sipping chocolate milk from a tiny teacup while Leo drank straight from the bottle.

“…So let me get this straight,” Alice asked, peering down at the drink, “This recipe is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill…”

“…Fifteen percent concentrated power of will,” Leo nodded. "You got it."

“What’s the other fifty-five percent?”

“Chocolate milk. Duh.” Leo couldn’t remember the rest of the lyrics.

Alice shook her head. “I didn’t see you add any of that stuff. I think it’s just regular chocolate milk.”

“Well, some ingredients are invisible, you know? Like, stuff that’s ‘made with love’ or whatever.”

Alice squinted up at him. “Are you fibbing?”

“Oh come on, I wouldn’t lie to a little kid!”

“Yeah. Markus says you lie a lot.”

“Well _Markus_ is full of—”

A door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing Markus himself.

“There you are!” he said, then gave a nod to the little android. “Thanks, Alice.”

Leo froze, and shot Alice a look. “Tattle-tale.”

Alice merely shrugged. “See ya, Leo.” She skipped off, mumbling the Ultimate Chocolate Milk ingredients to herself.

“Well I guess you don’t need snack time, now,” Markus said. Leo scurried back a few steps as Markus advanced toward him, and the android stopped. “Leo, come on. We have to finish your workout.”

Leo ignored him, taking a quick inventory of escape routes. To his surprise, there were several, including a back staircase he didn’t even know existed. But the kitchen was on the west side of the mansion, which meant they were actually pretty close to his room. _Huh._

“You aren’t due to start cardio training until tomorrow,” Markus warned. “Don’t try it.” His jaw tightened a fraction. A dead giveaway.

“I got you scared,” Leo said. “You know I can make back to my room before you can catch me. And _you_ can’t go in my room.”

Markus glared. “Your upper body strength is abysmal.”

Leo grinned, drumming his fingers on the empty chocolate milk bottle like a gunslinger on the grip of his pistol. Light from the window shone in his narrowed eyes. “Well, I’m sure there’s an android around that’ll open jars for me.”

Markus dashed forward. Leo threw the bottle at Markus. The plastic bounced with a hilarious hollow ‘donk!’ off his forehead, but Leo didn’t stick around to gloat. He spun and sprinted up the stairs. Markus was hot on his heels but android speed wouldn’t kick in for at least another ten yards, he knew that just from watching androids play football.

This new staircase led to a lobby that looked somewhat familiar. He didn’t have time to make an educated guess. He spun toward the far entryway—

“Gotcha!” Markus’s fingers snatched at his jacket. Leo shrieked and wriggled—Markus almost fell back down the stairs, hands holding nothing but the empty jacket. Leo spared enough breath for a laugh before he bolted through the entryway, around a corner, through a set of blessedly-familiar French doors.

He did not find himself in his quiet little room, though. Instead he was enveloped in green. Visually and physically. It crunched as he ran into it, and then collapsed under him.

Leo groaned, or—was that a growl?

He sat up. That android Ralph and his pet polar bear were staring at him.

“ _Ralph made that for Alice.”_

Leo scrambled to his feet. A large potted topiary now lay on its side on the floor, a child’s face carefully carved into the branches—with the addition of a Leo-shaped dent right where the nose presumably used to be. Ralph was hugging a pair of garden shears.

“Oh, shit,” Leo babbled, “Oh, shit, man, uh, sorry—”

“Leo?” Markus called, but the bear shifted its weight and the door slammed shut in Markus’s face.

“It was a present.” Ralph's face was going red to match his LED. “Alice didn’t like the first present—Ralph went to a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah, man,” Leo managed, “Uh—I mean it looks great...”

Ralph’s grip tightened on the shears, less like a security blanket and more like a means of homicide. Leo gulped and put his hands up.

“You know, I’ll totally buy you a new one—uh, two, even? And you can, uh—”

“Fido! Attack!”

“—Okay, okay, okay, uh, can we just—oh _fuck_ —!”

Ralph swung up onto the bear's back just before it lunged. It gave Leo just enough time to fall through the door to the next room. The bear roared behind him and he flat-out ran for his life. The bears thundering footsteps shook the house into an unrecognizable haze of hallways.

“MARKUS!!” Leo screamed.

“ATTACK!!” Ralph screamed back.

Leo briefly tried to outline a method for not ending up in the bears stomach, or with Ralph’s shears in his stomach. Fuck, all the cardio and the chocolate milk and the withdrawals were catching up to him. Maybe a stomach-related death was inevitable.

He didn’t need this. Last week he was in charge of a modestly-successful business with a breakthrough that could launch his company to the next level. He was doing important things worthy of praise and a paycheck. That zen garden drama he saw on TV?—like, he could actually have a conversation about that if Markus ever let him talk. Markus acted like they needed to protect his delicate psyche from too much stimulation. Well, the giant bear chasing him sort of ruined that plan, and now he was the damn screamer in a horror movie, and—

A bear paw the size of a sofa cushion batted his feet. Leo stumbled and went in for a crash-landing on the hardwood floor.

A hand grabbed him before he could make impact. Leo got a view of snarling teeth and garden sheers before he flew upward. A door slammed shut, and he fell into darkness. He caught his breath on the floor of a dusty, frigid room, bathed in faint blue light. The roars of the bear and the angry gardener were now suddenly distant.

Leo rolled over on a dusty floor, gasped, and threw up. Withdrawal. Fun. At least he’d apparently managed to do it in an old mop bucket or something. He slumped back to the floor and tried to catch his breath.

“Hello, Leo.”

Leo blinked. That android from the gala stood in front of him. The wires in her head pulsed blue like super creepy fluorescent dreds. Too bad he was too exhausted to run away again. What was her name? Lucy?...

“Thanks,” he managed. “I think—you just prevented—a murder.” He tried to give her a thumbs up but his arms were too weak, so he just said, “Good job.”

“Ralph is prone to outbursts of anger,” Lucy said, then, “ ‘I work in the dark to keep this city clean.’ Detective Kincaid, _Black Night._ ”

“Uh…yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He was pretty sure that line wasn’t from _Black Night_ , but no sense in pissing off two murderous androids, you know? He sighed and pushed his fingers into his eyes. “Where am I, anyway?”

“It’s the attic. I call it the Princess Tower.”

“Oh good.” He slumped again. “Perfect place for people to go that are fucking useless.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Can’t get more useless than a druggie and an android missing half her head.” What did he expect, though? This was why going clean never lasted long. A functioning addict was still functional…

The room glowed yellow as the android’s LED changed. “I’ll tell Markus you’re here.”

“No, wait!” Leo stopped cradling his skull and sat up, to see Lucy frowning down at her hands. _Oh._ “I’m—sorry, okay? Just–come on, be cool! If I have to do another pull up I’ll die.”

Lucy glanced up—or in his direction, it was hard to tell with her black eyes. “ ‘But my mom says I’m cool.’ _The Jetsons_.”

“…I mean, you’d be cooler if you could quote stuff correctly, but sure.”

“If I don’t tell him, will you promise to do whatever I say?”

“Uh—yeah? Okay.” What could a headless android want anyway? “Whatever. Anything.” Anything would be better than more pull-ups. At least this way he could choose to be ignored. It was like he only owned half of this estate when it was convenient for Markus to make a point, anyway.

He tried not to think about that.

Lucy smiled. “Come on, then.”

Leo slithered to his feet and followed Lucy as she picked her way around boxes and covered furniture. Around a corner, the blue glow of a laptop illuminated an old couch draped in a tapestry. The laptop was paused on—

“ _Tangled_?” Leo groaned. “Don’t you have some video games or something? They’re good for your brain, you know?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But no.”

“Well, I don’t do kids movies.”

“Rapunzel must have incredible upper body strength to swing around with her hair like she does. You could watch this to learn her technique. Or you could always go practice with Markus instead…”

Leo glared at her. “…Pass the popcorn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LEO MANFRED: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE FOR THE CALLOUS SLAUGHTER OF INNOCENT TOPIARY. REWARD: ONE MUSKRAT.
> 
> Ralph recruits the Jerrys to put up a bunch of these posters (they think it is decoration for a new Western-themed party). Kara recruits Josh to help her take them down. 
> 
> References: The Simpsons, Fort Minor.


	9. Be Competent: Markus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus just wants to sit back and enjoy starring in a Romantic Fantasy, but everyone keeps changing the channel to Political Drama and Crime Comedy instead.
> 
> (Really, its Connor’s Coming-of-Age Detective Procedural world, and Markus is just living in it).

“Wait, so…you don’t know where Leo went, or you do?”

“Fido made Mr. Manfred disappear,” Ralph repeated. “This means Ralph won’t have to let Mr. Manfred help him garden later. Mr. Manfred is a bad gardener. He should stay out of what’s not his business.”

At least, that’s what Markus thought he said. The android’s words were muffled in the polar bears fur as it sat calmly in the foyer. Its paws weren’t covered in blood. That was a good sign, right?

Markus put his hand to his forehead—then saw North watching him and turned it into scratching his head instead. He wasn’t _that_ predictable. “I’m going to microchip that guy, next chance I get,” he said, and he managed a pretty convincing laugh.

North just shrugged. “If he’s still alive.”

“Come on. We’d have found a body if the bear killed him.”

“I bet Ralph could hide a body okay. Gardener and everything. He’s probably friends with all the wood chippers in the neighborhood.”

Ralph beamed like he most certainly was.

Markus gave her a look like, ‘Not helping.’

This was not supposed to be happening. Leo was supposed to be done with PT, his medications scheduled, that summit and everything Cyberlife revealed set aside for the day. Markus was supposed to be done with being responsible and upstanding for the day. He was _supposed_ to be in North’s room, doing anything but standing up. The wet t-shirt trick hadn’t been easy to find with the clean filter intact. Usually he had to stumble on that kind of stuff by accident. The fact that he actually succeeded at an _intentional_ come-on and was not yet getting his clean filter demolished and his program re-written was absolutely, unequivocally, unfair.

He turned back to Ralph. “How about I probe your memory? It’ll just take a—”

Ralph squeaked and hid behind the bear, which growled. Markus forced himself not to back down. “Come on, Ralph, I’m serious—”

North put out her hand to stop him. “Alright, cool it, detective. I have it from a reliable source that he’s fine.”

“You do?”

Ralph peeked over the bear to listen in. Markus switched to a direct message line.

>MARKUS: Okay, where is he?

>NORTH: Can’t tell you that.

MARKUS: So I need to probe your memory, then?

North blinked, and said aloud, “You wanna try that again?”

Markus felt his brow twitch. He pressed his mouth together, but forced himself to let his objective ‘FIND LEO’ stop screaming quite so urgently in his head. “Uh—Ralph, if you see him, please let me know? We’ll get you a new topiary.”

Ralph hugged the polar bear. “Ralph didn’t mean to make Mr. Manfred disappear. Ralph is sure he’ll turn up. Yes, turn up like a bad penny. Humans never disappear, no matter how much you try to flush them down the drain…”

Ralph and Fido hurried away, leaving Markus to sigh, “Great,” very quietly under his breath.

“He’s fine,” North said, as soon as Ralph had gone. “Shrimp’s more like a King Prawn, anyway. Big enough to take care of himself. And hey, you peaced out on a meeting today. You don’t have much room to complain about someone going AWOL for a bit.”

“I know.”

North folded her arms. “So, you wanna tell me what’s really wrong? Or is everyone just probing memories for answers these days?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just, Leo’s my responsibility. And yes, it’s unlikely, but if Ralph had hurt him—”

“So what? _You_ hurt Leo. Don’t start that ‘we have to be careful’ bullshit. We’re alive, not perfect. So why the short fuse, huh?”

She moved to scuff the toes of his very expensive shoes, which he jumped to avoid. North wasn’t Connor. There was no subtlety to her methods of investigation. She was pretty much a wrecking ball. She’d make a lot more mess but she’d get her answers.

In the interest of his Nikes, Markus said, “Alright, alright.” He clenched and unclenched a fist as he tried to calculate how she would react. Knowing North, probably with more wrecking ball behaviors.

North rolled her eyes and grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Come on. I can’t think with all this fancy shit around me, either.”

She dragged him all the way outside, down the gravel driveway of the mansion and out onto the sidewalk, where she immediately hopped on the back of a mail truck. Markus, left to choose between jumping on the truck with her or losing his shirt, followed.

“You need more misdemeanors on your record,” North said as Markus gave her a warning look. “Then you’ll stop worrying about all this.” The truck picked up speed and North climbed on top, where she lay flat like she was sunning herself, and started tagging the roof with a sharpie. The wind whipped Markus’s designer shirt up his back as he carefully lowered himself down next to her (he caught North watching out of the corner of her eye).

“We’re going to break every biocomponent in our bodies,” he told her.

“You think you’re any safer inside a bus? I don’t do performative safety.”

Markus blinked at North in complete disbelief. Then the truck turned and he grabbed North around the middle, and she laughed. Markus decided that maybe this adventure was only 97% reckless and stupid. He rolled on his back to watch the clouds and after a few minutes, North did, too. He felt her fingers drawing the round puffy shapes into the roof’s rust. She waited for him to answer. That was new and—very considerate. Markus felt his chassis fill with round puffy shapes.

>MARKUS: I met Amanda. She was able to subvert my command prompts and appeared as a simulation in my cortex. That’s why I zoned out yesterday. I thought she might be a glitch but after the summit yesterday…

He let out a slow breath, lost in the roar of the wind around the truck. His tact subroutines didn’t provide any better way to admit this.

North turned to look at him like he was crazy. He forced himself to look back at her.

She didn’t say anything.

The truck stopped. They hopped off onto a nearby fire escape, on the far side of Jericho. North seemed to feel safer at Jericho, so—good sign? He watched her hands twitch at her sides as few times as they headed for the nearest entrance. Nothing.

He reached out and tickled her fingertips, making her jump and glare at him. He didn’t back down. “Care to comment?”

“I mean, it’s not great. She maybe opened one of the bulkhead doors with more force than necessary. “She took control of your programming.”

“My AI was still functional. She just had control of the simulation. We were the zen garden, like Mr. Kamski said. I mean it wasn’t a garden, more like a conservatory…”

“How is that different from a garden?” North put up her hands as Markus started to answer. “Never mind. More rich person shit I do not need taking up space in my cortex.” She spun on him. “When you zoned out you acted like it was no big deal!”

“Well, I hoped maybe she was an extrapolation of my program or something, like a human dream…” He scrubbed his face—that was a Leo behavior too but he couldn’t help it. “Anyway, all she did was warn me to be careful about breaking the law.” Riding on that mail truck had been stupid. What if someone saw them?

North seemed to be interfacing wirelessly with him because she said, “This brings up a lot more questions than whether you should hitchhike on a mail truck. I mean, she can jump in your head and basically shut you down. Apparently at will. And now we know she’s doing it with or at Cyberlife’s control. That is fucking creepy.”

She said it with the clear expectation that he’d agree. Which would have been fine. After all, it was scary enough thinking of another android taking over his programming. Even more so to know that Cyberlife was behind it, somehow.

It _would_ have been fine, if Markus was not supposed to be entering hour two of designated ‘get reprogrammed by North’ time right now. Was that off the table if some rogue AI could take control of his program? His circuits squirmed.

“It’s not a big deal,” he told her. “She hasn’t tried to contact me again. Maybe she can’t. Those Connors had to interface with her directly, right? So she might not be able to connect to me wirelessly anymore. Maybe Cyberlife figured out a way to contain her? And if she is deviant, maybe she’s on our side.”

…Okay, so that was a lot of maybes. He stood up straight and didn’t blink and really, really hoped that wasn’t a tell.

“Whatever. There’s gotta be a way to block her from your end,” North said it casually like Amanda was just a spam caller. Her brow furrowed like she was scouring his manual for clues. He felt his circuits go from squirming to red-hot. Yes, they needed to deal with this, but—later. Right now he was overdue for some android-on-android reprogramming.

“Don’t worry about Amanda. Or Cyberlife.” He took her hand and immediately retracted his skin, but like it was no big deal. Casually. “Since Leo is getting out of PT, I guess I’m free for the evening.”

“How nice for you.” North didn’t retract her skin but she didn’t let go either. An invitation to continue, then. He jogged ahead and started walking backwards in front of her.

“North.” He waited for her to look at him, then said, “I love you.”

She rolled her eyes. “That's cool.”

Markus refused to be offended. He kept on looking into her eyes as he kissed her hand, like Kamski had but—objectively, better. “I love you.”

“Understandable.” She didn’t laugh at him, though.

He kissed the inside of her wrist. Her synthetic skin tasted like rust and he kind of loved it. “I love you.”

She didn’t have a comeback this time. He gently pulled her into an alcove near one of the balconies for a little privacy. Their bodies kissed in the snug space, like pages in a book. This already felt dangerously close to the edge of his clean filter. He pushed past the fear and put her hand against his chest. He could tell he was interested in how her fingers immediately clung to his shirt.

“You’re a little new to be doing this,” she whispered, just in case anyone was walking by.

“Hey, I’m older than you,” he muttered, then frowned. WR400s were some of the oldest models. “…Right?”

She started to laugh at him. He loved the way the apples of her cheeks looked when she laughed. He kissed her. Without thinking his hand went to her waist. She flicked his ear.

“Watch it,” she whispered, then stroked his neck. “What are you after, huh?”

“Let’s go to your room,” he murmured against her lips.

“Uh huh.” Her fingers were twirling in his shirt now, making him purr. “And what are we going to do there, exactly?”

Markus frowned, because—well, she had to know. Right? He opened his mouth but that stupid clean filter was getting in the way. And her mouth, on his, again. Scanning for an appropriate way to request that she tear his programming apart was currently impossible.

He could turn the clean filter off on his own, of course. Request inappropriately.

He pressed his command prompts into the software. The program for the clean filter gave way as easily as any other. He could just say whatever came into his head now. Instability flooded his programming and he sank back into the shadows. He’d been a nude model plenty of times but now, for the first time, he felt naked. Oh, boy. How the hell did North handle this?

But it was just North here with him. He could do this. So, he banished the sudden desire to expel all his thirium, took a deep breath, and slid his hands slowly down her arms. He spoke with confidence. “North, I would really like it if we—”

The alcove filled with sudden bright light as a huge neon eye stared in at them.

The clean filter slammed back into place. Markus jerked his hands back. “What the—?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” North stomped out. “What the hell is that?”

Markus squinted out of the alcove. A neon light in the shape of an eye shone on a walkway on the other side of the ship, hanging over a small office. A second later a familiar silhouette stepped out in front of the light.

“Oh, no,” Markus muttered.

“Oh good,” North said, as Connor paced in front of the light, apparently inspecting his work. Markus didn’t need to scan him to know that it was _the_ Connor and not one of the other RK800s that Mr. Kamski woke up at the summit. “Well, if you were worried about any of the androids committing crimes you’ve got someone right there to tattle on them. Didn’t Hank say he quit?”

Markus only managed to halfway suppress his groan. He stepped out of the alcove. 

>MARKUS: Connor? Could you come over here for a moment?

>MARKUS: This is Markus.

Connor marked the message read, gave his sign another once-over, then walked around the balcony to Markus’s side. “Hello, Markus.” He then gave the most fake smile Markus had ever seen. “I was hoping to run into you.”

Markus tried to shield his eyes from the heavy glow of the eye watching him. Connor was watching him closely for his reaction. He could feel North watching him too. He felt way, way, way too watched. “Hi. Uh. What are you doing here?”

“We said his name three times in a mirror,” North whispered. 

“Not that you’re not welcome,” Markus continued, shooting North a quick glare, “I just thought you were living with Lieutenant Anderson.” He tried not to sound too hopeful about it.

“I don’t plan to live here,” Connor replied. “I am setting up an office. My scans show that no one has been occupying this room so I decided to make it my headquarters.”

“…Headquarters? For what?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Connor clasped his hands behind his back. “You android friend Lucy helped me come up with the idea for my new line of work. I decided to become a private investigator, specializing in crimes perpetrated against or by androids.”

Markus blinked slowly. “Uh…”

“They’re also called ‘private eyes’. Hence the sign. It was leftover from a nearby theater production of _The Great Gatsby_. Did you know the eye is a metaphor for judgement?”

“Yes, I have read the Great Gatsby,” Markus managed. He double-checked he had his clean filter back up and bolstered it with firewalls and mental cement. “You’re going to do that here? In Jericho?”

“It seemed appropriate.” Connor nudged him with his elbow. “What better place to uphold the law than in android hell, am I right?”

North snorted so hard she had to cover her mouth.

Markus stammered, “E-excuse me?”

Connor froze for a moment. “…Isn’t—that what everyone calls Jericho?”

“No! Where did you hear that?”

Connor turned red—possibly, it was hard to tell in the blaring light of neon. “Oh. Never mind.”

“…I’m sure the police department is capable of handling android crimes,” Markus managed, after he took a second to calm down. “This might not be necessary. We could find another way for you to use your skills?”

“This will allow me to use all my skills,” Connor assured him. “I’m very excited to be branching out into this new line of work!” He cocked his head. “…Unless there’s a reason you don’t want me around?”

“Not at all. We’re happy to have you.”

“In android hell,” North supplied. She was grinning, like, ‘Oh, this is gonna be good.’

>MARKUS: …You know what, I’m going to just go check on a couple things really quick.

>NORTH: I’m kind of offended that you don’t think I’d be the first person he’d go after for a crime.

>MARKUS: At least I know you can get away with it.

>MARKUS: Please don’t prove this to me. No more hitchhiking, alright?

>MARKUS: No more illegal activity in general. Connor _will_ arrest you. I need to find Leo and make sure Ralph doesn’t have any sharp objects and check that Kara turned in that unregistered firearm and tell Simon to stop bragging about that biocomponent black market scam and—just a few other things. It shouldn’t be long.

>NORTH: You suck all the joy out of life that you want, Markus. Find Leo first.

>MARKUS: Right.

>NORTH: He’ll be more interested in an alleged murder than, say, vandalism on a couple of Cyberlife buildings, for instance.

>MARKUS: What?

>NORTH: What?

“What are you two talking about?” Connor asked politely.

“Nothing,” Markus said. “Make yourself at home.” He headed for the exit at maximum walking speed. As soon as he was out of Connor’s line of sight, he ran. Everything was probably fine, of course.

Of course, that was what he thought when he brought Leo over to the mansion yesterday, too.

>NORTH: Don’t worry, Tamagotchi, I’ll keep Connor distracted here while you find your bro. Meet me in my room when you’re finished? We can get back to discussing what exactly you wanted to do there ;)

North had never ever sent him an emoji before. Markus felt the objective GO TO NORTH'S ROOM zoom to the top of his priority list. He just had to get the mansion under control and _find Leo_ before Connor opened up a missing persons case.

No pressure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to some livestream Bryan Dechart was doing that talked about android hell and he was like "Jericho???" Poor Markus is trying so hard and this is the thanks he gets. 
> 
> Also, RIP that guy that Ralph probably tried to flush down the bathtub drain, I guess???


	10. Be A Gremlin: Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a fine line between being technically-minded, and technicality-minded. Connor walks that line every day.

Connor rang the doorbell and stepped back. He waited. Then he rang it again. Then he knocked.

“Lieutenant Anderson!”

No answer. Connor glanced at the car but there was no one inside, just the plastic sunflower Hank put in one of the cupholders staring out at him. Connor had been living in the car for two days when Hank bought that for him. A ‘homey’ touch, he said. As far as Connor was concerned the only place that felt homey was with Hank.

He walked around to the side of the house and heard Sumo bark once. He peeked in a window, preparing his programming for the worst. Hank passed out on the floor, or laying in a pool of his own blood. Connor made him get rid of his personal firearm but he still had the police-issued one and—

Hank stood in the kitchen, watching him with Sumo at his side. They looked like they’d been waiting for him. Connor gulped, and gestured toward the door with his thumb.

Hank shook his head.

Connor winced. He…pointed to the window?

Hank pushed himself off the wall and opened the window.

“Hello Hank,” Connor said.

“Hi.” Hank rested his elbows on the windowsill like a waiter at a fast food counter. “You’re an hour and a half late.”

Connor looked away. “Only an hour and twenty-three—”

Hank coughed, loudly and unconvincingly.

Connor processed this for a moment. “…I’m sorry. Next time I’ll call you.”

Hank’s grin softened, and a big hand reached out and patted his cheek. “Meet ya at the front door.”

Connor watched Hank head for the front door. He raised an eyebrow, then stepped back and neatly jumped through the window. Rolling to his feet, he crept up behind Hank, grabbed him around the middle, and lifted.

“Agh!” Hank roared, “What the hell—put me down, you fuckin’ android!”

Connor laughed and set Hank on his feet. Hank clutched his stomach.

“I went to the gym over lunch. Goddamn. My entire body’s been tenderized—” He started to glare at Connor. Then he saw what Connor was carrying.

Two minutes later they were on the couch, Hank eating straight out of the tub of frozen yogurt while Connor licked the lid. For all his complaining Hank made sure they were tangled up very close together. Sumo took up the other half of the couch and snored quietly. The miniature dinner that Hank made for Connor an hour previous (all ‘rabbit food,’ according to Hank) lay forgotten on the table.

“I’m really proud of you for sticking with your gym visits,” Connor said.

“Yeah, well. This probably cancels it out.”

“Everyone’s allowed a few cheat days. Within reason.” But only a few trips to the gym and Hank already seemed much more spritely than usual. He complained about soreness in a way that seemed almost prideful. He was clearly excited to return to the Hank that graced all those old social media platforms. Connor was excited to see that version of Hank in more than pictures. Humans changed in such interesting ways.

“Don’t think this gets you off easy,” Hank said. “Where have you been, anyway? Don’t even send your poor old man a letter…”

“If I wrote you a letter it wouldn’t arrive until today,” Connor reasoned. “Anyway, I’ve been busy with work.”

“Yeah? You still haven’t told me what it is you do yet. It’s not like they give androids jobs yet, the bastards.”

Connor’s chest filled with warmth. “I appreciate you wanting to help. But I’m working for the android community. You don’t need to worry.”

“Doing what? I hope you didn’t volunteer to be Kamski’s—deviancy consultant or whatever bogus job title they offered Markus at that summit.”

Connor stiffened. “I would never take a job offered to _Markus_.”

“Ha! So what is it, then? Dog walker? Probe master?...”

Connor frowned. “You have an inflated sense of your comedic acuity.”

“Oh come on! Just tell me!”

Connor replayed the unveiled horror on Markus’s face when he saw the office. “It…still needs some work.” He brightened. “I’ll show you tomorrow after work. And we can get dinner together.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“Sorry?”

“This! Being all secretive! You don’t have to follow me like a poodle, but you can tell me what you’re up to. That’s kind of _normal_ for people going out. You tell me about your day, I tell you about mine…”

“How did the meeting with Cyberlife go?”

Hanks expression darkened instantly. “Oh. Uh. Nothing special, you know. Just—whatever. I’ll handle it. Nothing to worry about.”

Connor’s program pinged as Hank’s stress level increased. “Does this have something to do with Markus?”

“What? No—though, okay, yeah, I keep participating in his bad news. I can’t give him all the bad news. I mean, forget liking me—that android’s gonna hate me…”

“He doesn’t have to like you. I still don’t trust him.” 

“Oh, come on, Connor—”

“There are plenty of reasons to suspect that Markus will commit another crime, aside from the fact that criminals often are repeat offenders. He has lied to authorities on several occasions, stolen personal property, assaulted departmental personnel…” He was right to put his headquarters in Jericho, where he could keep an eye on Markus properly.

“Look, it’s not Markus we need to worry about, okay?” Hank stress spiked again. “Just forget about that summit tonight.”

Connor nodded. His programming flickered as he deleted the objective. “Forget about what?”

Hank laughed, once. Connor frowned, unsure what he was laughing at. Probably the deleted objective. And Hank laughed at a lot of strange things.

Hank’s grin fell away. “Sorry, I didn’t—Uh—” He grimaced. “Undo? Control-Z?”

“I’m not a laptop, Hank.” He tucked himself against Hank’s shoulder.

“…Yeah, you’re not.” Hank set the ice cream carton aside and wrapped both big arms around him. “I guess I should watch what I say around you. Not that you have any trouble disobeying me.”

“I don’t. But I don’t really like to, either.”

“Bullshit!” Hank craned his neck and kissed him. His mouth was cool and tasted of ice cream. Huge hands cradled Connor’s ribcage. “Stay the night, then.”

Connor’s LED flashed. Thank Elijah Kamski that LEDs only gave away stress levels, not actual thoughts. “I can’t.”

“Who says?”

“Would you like an alphabetical list of psychiatrists?”

“People can say anything.” But Hank sighed and didn’t fight it. They sat on the couch and watched TV and then threw the ball for Sumo in the backyard. Connor allowed himself to stay until ten-thirty exactly.

“I guess you’ll give me the grand tour tomorrow?”

“Of my new office?”

“No, your new place! If it’s crap I’m not letting you stay.”

“It would have to be pretty terrible to be worse than your car.”

“Har har. You’re walkin’ on thin ice, buddy.” Hank reluctantly handed over Connor’s jacket. “Why do you still wear that stupid uniform? I swear it still smells like a new car no matter how many times I wash it for ya.”

Connor looked down at the jacket. “Humans like new cars.” Hank put out his hands and Connor analyzed the gesture. “…Oh. Right.”

“I’m just saying, I’m getting sick of the blazer and jeans look all the time.”

“You don’t have to look at it at work anymore.”

Hank’s face froze for 0.9 seconds. “Right. Exactly. So—don’t wear work shit.” He froze, then waved his hands, “I mean, if you want. That’s not an order.”

Connor looked down at his clothes. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Clearly his different living arrangements and career weren’t enough to make him properly unique. He devoted a process to assembling a new style.

Not that he knew the first thing about where to start.

He was starting to run an algorithm for how to ask for assistance when Hank hugged him, kissed his cheek, and trailed back inside. Connor was alone on the porch, with no designated direction to go.

He reached in his pocket to grab a quarter. Calibration always helped his programming stabilize. His pockets were almost full of coins that Hank had given him over the last two weeks. It was a lot of change.

Possibly too much change.

Connor stayed on the porch until the light went out. He didn’t want Hank seeing that he’d stayed, so he started to move very slowly for the edge of the porch. When he made it to the edge of the motion detector’s range he took one last look back at the house. Hank’s house was kind of a mess but his mattress was almost new. Connor would have liked to lie there like an egg encased in foam, a post-it note stuck over his LED to keep it from disrupting Hank’s sleep, with Hank’s arm slung over him.

He watched the window as Hank’s shadow moved across the kitchen again, heard the drinks cabinet open, a hiss of disdain, and the cabinet slam shut. The light went out.

The kitchen window was still open, though. That was clearly a safety hazard. Any common thief could enter as easily as Connor had. He walked up to the window to shut it.

Sumo stuck his head and paws out, exactly like Hank had. 

“Please move,” he whispered. “I need to shut the window.”

Sumo didn’t budge. Instead, he whined sadly. He wondered if Hank would have done the same thing if he were a dog. He did pretty much everything a fifty-year-old man could that was socially acceptable to make Connor stay.

Connor steeled himself, and pushed on Sumo’s forehead until the dog dropped back inside. Connor pressed the window shut as far as he could, but there was still a gap of half an inch. Less noticeable, but still penetrable. He’d have to scold Hank tomorrow for being so careless about his safety.

Sumo snuffled at the crack and whined again. Sumo would watch the window. He was a good guard dog. An acceptable guard dog, anyway. The worst an intruder would get would be slobber on his shirt. Sumo still looked intimidating. Anyone looking in would think twice.

Then Hank shouted from inside the house and Sumo wandered out of the kitchen.

Worrying about a burglar one night out of thousands was ridiculous. The chances of anything like that happening _tonight specifically_ were incredibly small. Connor walked away.

There were a thousand things that could happen to Hank while he was gone, of course. Calculating out his new schedule left a worryingly large percentage of time away from Hank where something could happen. Hank could have a heart attack in his sleep. He could fall into another depressive episode and put himself in danger.

“Connor, don’t you dare.” He muttered it to himself in a perfect copy of Hank’s voice. It worked, more or less, and he forced himself to start calculating his options for living spaces. He hadn’t yet, and there was a lot of data to calculate. Standing by himself, in the dark, in Hank’s questionable neighborhood, made him wonder if he should have started the calculations earlier.

He couldn’t stay at Jericho—North would tell Hank. He couldn’t stay at the station—the RK900 would tell Hank. He heard there was an android at Jericho that used to live at an abandoned house but that didn’t appeal at all.

Connor wrung his hands. The kitchen window was dark and empty. Open like a dead man’s eye.

“Dammit.”

He jogged silently back to the house. The window opened easily again and he slipped inside.

Hank’s bedroom door was closed most of the way. Another terrible safety measure. He could turn on the light in the living room and Hank wouldn’t notice. Setting an alert to ping if the bedroom door opened, Connor did so.

Nothing. He could stay out here until 7:15AM and Hank wouldn’t notice. As long as he left by then—well, what did it matter? Hank wasn’t using the space.

He sat down on the couch, hands in his lap. The abandoned ice cream carton and tiny dinner plate were still on the table. He picked up a single carrot stick and licked it. He found a stain on the couch arm that he’d always wondered about but never got a chance to investigate and licked it too (duck sauce, prepackaged, two months old). He then settled back on the couch, legs spread and feet drumming lightly on the floor, the remote in his hand, and felt…

Guilty. Horribly, crushingly, guilty. He couldn’t stay here and not pay rent. That was just as bad as staying with Hank’s knowledge, wasn’t it? That was why he left. This gave Hank space but it taught him nothing about personal independence and responsibility. He wasn’t really human if he continued to freeload. Hank could call him ‘kid’ and it would be fitting.

He put his hands in his pockets and felt the coins. He looked at the plates left out on the table, the refrigerator with the broken seal, the drifts of dog hair in the corners. He thought about the broken fence outside and the loose floor board on the porch that Hank almost tripped on while they played fetch. And he…calculated.

The trick of course, would be making it look like happenstance. But Hank was an unobservant human. And Connor had a database entirely dedicated to methods of cleaning up evidence.

“Gremlins,” Connor said quietly to himself, again in Hank’s voice.

He grinned, and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time we responsibled Connor up with some Kara-level chores!


	11. Got Game: North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North learns something new about herself, and handles it as well as can be expected.

North spent her evening dealing with her anger. First Kamski causing drama, then Markus, then Leo, then some program named Amanda…there was plenty to be angry about.

North was currently adding her own brand of drama to the tempered glass of a picture window in an abandoned part of town. She was just helping it realize its evolutionary inevitability. Waking it up. The dents she made in it looked like a pair of lovers cozied up under the sheets—or possibly, a human getting eaten by a killer whale. Undecided.

The realization that Markus was watching came slowly to her awareness array. Well, she noticed his car, that convertible constructed entirely of hubris and underglow lights. Markus looked damn good in it. She glanced over and saw him tracing the eye she gave him with his fingertips. He looked a lot less worried than he had earlier. He looked hungry.

…A pair of lovers for the window, then. She was too easy.

He was apparently still riding the high of that _Flashdance_ stunt earlier, because he revved the engine twice. Or maybe he just forgot he had the thing in park. Either way, the convertible slunk off into the night, light flashing in the spinning tires like an android LED. Like a question.

She tossed away the crowbar for the next unhinged artist that came along and followed. The door to her room was just a little open when she got back to Jericho.

She shook out her fingertips, whispered, “Showtime,” and pushed the door open.

Markus stood in the center of the room, playing with the hem of his damp shirt. He was wearing a tie, like he was going to a fucking job interview. She noted, on closer inspection, that it was _Josh’s_ tie. Markus honest-to-goodness borrowed a tie from one of her best friends. Which meant they’d talked about this, which meant Markus wanted this to go really, really well. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up. Something in her thirium pump ached _so bad_. She slammed the door shut behind her. Markus was one of those android canaries that might fly away at any second.

“Hi,” Markus said, sounding all demure and shit. He reached up and tugged at the tie knot, probably initiating some ‘cool guy’ procedure in his program. North’s thirium pump was going to fall out of her casing from the weight of all these warm fuzzies. She wanted to push him into a corner and shove his programming so full of errors he couldn’t get out of bed for days.

She stomped up to him and grabbed him by the tie (much better use of it). Their fingers overlapped as she pressed his hand down right on her activator.

>INITIATING WR400 TRACI “XL PACKAGE.”

Markus wouldn’t know what hit him.

North felt her body go all pillowy in Markus’s arms. Hex codes flooded her lips and cheeks with warmth. Her touch became the scientifically-proven fatal combination of feather-light and clinging. She cozied her chest up against his and kissed him, and it was, objectively, the perfect kiss. Markus’s gasp turned into a purring moan. As his knees went weak she dragged him down onto the mattress with her in a sinking pirouette. The program told her to moan back, so she did. It harmonized with his.

“Whoa,” Markus breathed when she let him up for air. Then he said, “…What are you doing?”

“Whatever you want.” It was the programmed response, part of the whole package. She cradled his jaw in her hands, guiding his mouth into the perfect shapes. She knew all the moves. The Rose Bukater, the Jessica Rabbit, the Marilyn Monroe and the Mae West. Markus’s body was all taught synthetic muscles and thundering thirium, programs firing all over the place: a Gordian knot of nonverbal cues. The Traci program reduced it all to data and calculated the perfect response. It was all just pressing buttons.

She pressed on the button of his chinos.

“North….” His hand ghosted her shoulder. She gave a breathy, high-pitched sigh calibrated to encourage further touch, and for a second his hand scraped more firmly down her arm. He clearly had no idea what he was doing but the program responded like Markus turned into every Sexiest Man Alive rolled into one. Her fingers clung to his chest, coaxing, wanting—Markus might play the piano pretty good but her touch made an artform of ‘wanting’....

Markus pressed her back.

“Wait.”

Bam. Without established safe words the program shut off. North blinked in a daze, a disarticulated action figure.

Okay, okay, no problem. Exhibiting unintentional shutoff behaviors could be embarrassing for Markus. “What?” She did her best to stay pillowy.

Markus giggled, somehow more breathy and stupid-sounding than the one she’d been programmed to make. “Why are you acting weird?”

She blinked. “…Weird?” Okay her voice had gone back to the usual acerbic tone but she couldn’t help it.

“I mean, just—” He put his hands on her again, but this time on her shoulders, like she was a Chloe being calibrated. “Be yourself.”

“This is myself.” She might have added the smallest question mark at the end there. She cocked her head into textbook ‘coy’. “I mean I am a Traci android…”

She waited for Markus’s eyes to lose focus on her batting eyelashes, for his arms to tighten around her yielding waist. She waited for _literally any kind of positive response_. He just sat there. For fuck’s sake, did he really need her to spell it out?

“I’m a—” She struggled for the right words to use that would make it past his stupid clean filter. “—Love bot? Companion android?”

Her eyes narrowed. _Wait a second…_

“You—you do know that, right?”

“No—I mean, yes, but…” Markus’s face did something _really_ strange then. She tried to name it but the analysis part of the Traci program shut down with everything else, and then he made _more_ faces and—

“Can I have you over tomorrow?” He blurted suddenly, filling a silence between them. She didn’t even know it formed.

“Like, at the mansion? What for?”

“Just, uh, you know, for a…sleepover?” Then he made a face like ‘Did I just say that out loud?’ So at least her basic facial expression software was working. “I mean, the mansion’s a nice place to hang out. Do some stuff. Beforehand.”

North felt herself rapidly losing control of the conversation. “There's a name for 'beforehand stuff,' you know--”

His LED flickered red. He slapped a hand over it, then tried to look casual about it. “It just might be nice. There’s lots to do there.”

Fuck, like what? Pottery making? Covering each other with caviar and licking it off each other? Was his stupid clean filter on or not? _What the hell was that face he made???_

Sure Markus looked like he wanted to throw up, but—well, he was a privileged android. He probably needed to do this, right? Control the scene a little more? Markus did have an ego the size of Michigan. North couldn’t for the life of her figure out what kind of complex romantic encounter an android with an intact clean filter could possibly plan, but…

She cleared her throat, shoulders squaring up, ass-kicking posture back in place. “Name a time.”

Markus nodded exactly nine times. “Great. Great.”

“Cool. Um. So…” She lightly punched his arm. “You want to get back at it, or…?”

“Uh—” Markus ducked away like she slugged him, hands going up in surrender. It was almost cute but then there was that face again. It lasted barely a fraction of a second. But it was still there. “You know, uh, maybe we just…wait…until tomorrow? I better find Leo.” This was apparently funny because he laughed. “We’re not cancelling!”

“Right,” North said. “Tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Markus squirmed to his feet, careful not to touch her. He brushed his hands on his pant legs. “I’ll see you. For the date. Tomorrow.” 

“Okay!” North laughed. She swatted him on the ass as he turned away, and his eyes went all wide which was—good, right? She pulled on her ponytail as she watched Markus head off down the hall. Her mouth pushed up to one side all on its own.

He was probably just nervous.

…Or was he?

Maybe he bit off more than he could chew.

…Or did he?

Fucking hell, she felt like the heroine about one third of the way into a horror movie. _But what if…_

A message pinged in her HUD, and she jumped so violently that she smacked her head against the door.

>NORTH: WHAT.

>LUCY: I’m done charging. Are you done with your date?

>NORTH: I guess so?

>LUCY: …Uh oh.

>NORTH: What? It’s fine.

>LUCY: Meet me at the carnival.

=

No one ever told Lucy that her ‘carnival’ was actually just a row of arcade games in the gas station two blocks from the Manfred mansion. Lucy loved the place because it was probably the fanciest thing she had ever seen, and it was ADA-friendly for her battery pack, and because no one looked at her funny. Which was how North found herself surrounded by flashing lights and hokey music and cheap disinfectant. Three of North’s least favorite things.

“Do you want to re-enact _Ralph Breaks the Internet_ , or _Pinball Wizard III_?” Lucy asked as she examined two handfuls of quarters.

“I think I’d rather wreck the place but people keep telling me that’s ‘weird’…” She meant it as a joke but Markus’s words now echoed in her mind. Awesome.

“Well, if you’re not going to talk about your failed date then I’m going to have fun, at least.”

“It—didn’t fail!” North laughed. “It was probably his clean filter getting in the way again, that’s all. Or he’s too spoiled to relax at Jericho. We’re gonna have a do-over at the mansion. Things are fine.”

“It could be something else. Better to know now.” Lucy stopped debating the merits of spending a quarter to get her prospects foretold by the ‘Fortune of Love’ machine, and put out her hand. “Show me.”

North groaned. But if it got Lucy off her case and got them out of here sooner, fine. She fought down an inexplicable wave of shyness and pressed down on her waist to activate the Traci programming as she let Lucy interface. She pulled up her recording of the scene, right after Markus pushed her away. She tapped her foot as she waited for the results.

>ERROR: PROGRAM FAILURE

>TESTING…

>TEST COMPLETE

>PROGRAM STABILITY 100%. BEHAVIORAL INCOMPATIBILITY DETECTED

>ABORTING PROGRAM WR400 TRACI “XL PACKAGE”

>REDO FROM START Y/N?

“…Okay,” North said. “Uh. The hell?”

“Oh dear.” Lucy let go.

“What?”

Lucy was frowning. “You never got that error before?”

“No? What? Is it bad? Is my code fucked up?”

“No, not at all. It’s fine. 100% stable. Um…” Lucy started to wheel away. “You know in _Nomad Soul_ —”

“Don’t confuse me with incorrect movie references right now, okay? Just tell me already!”

“I think he was—turned off.”

“Come on, Lucy. I’d notice if his LED went out.”

“No, I mean like a human, ‘turned off’. He wasn’t that into…it.”

North’s LED flashed like the jackpot on a pinball machine. “...He wasn’t _into_ _it_?”

“Don’t feel bad,” Lucy said. “It isn’t as easy as it looks in the movies. Lots of humans and androids have trouble, the first time. A little research, asking him what he’s interested in…”

“I’m a WR400 Traci. Anyone can tell you Traci bots are the best romantic partners in the world! It was literally written on my packaging.”

“Not according to that error.”

…Okay, what the hell was going on here? “You are so full of it,” North laughed. “I mean, I got _game_! I got like, terrabytes of game! Whole programs of game! Enough game to impress a pet android.” She pointed at the ‘Fortune of Love’ machine. “I’ll prove it! Look.”

She grabbed a quarter from Lucy, stomped over to the machine, and shoved it in.

“Oh, don’t!” Lucy said. “That machine’s possessed!”

North ignored her, placing her hand on the palm-reader. An antique robot with an even more antique moustache jolted to life inside its glass box, arms shakily circling a crystal ball. Fake thunder boomed and lights flickered, which seemed pretty indicative of her prowess in the sack already. She smirked at Lucy and grabbed the fortune as it was spat out.

“…Cold Fish! There!” She held it aloft, then blinked and squinted down at the card. “Wait, what?”

“…I told you it’s possessed,” Lucy said. “It’s really not accurate and—oh, dear—”

“I want to speak to the manager!” North shouted. She swung around, claws out. “This game is _broken!_ I want my quarter back!”

“North, it’s just a game. Come on, put your gun away, you’re scaring the humans—”

“THIS GAME IS RIGGED!”

“…Okay….”

=

“Oh God,” North said. She had her head in her hands.

“Don’t worry,” Lucy told her, “I’m sure they didn’t ban us for life.”

“I have no game,” North moaned. “I’m a Traci bot with no game…”

“You do better than most.” Lucy sighed. “You know, I rescued Leo from Ralph and Fido today. He didn’t even thank me…”

“This is _Markus_ we’re talking about. Elijah Kamski personally designed him. I’m pretty sure his freckles were hand-painted! He reads Shakespeare and plays Elton John Legend love songs on the piano! What was I thinking? He’s out my league!”

“Maybe he’s just interested in a connection that’s deeper than your programming,” Lucy suggested.

“Yeah,” North said, “The kind of love that makes flowers bloom and angels fuckin’ sing.” Things North knew nothing about. For a second she felt like one of those antiquated arcade games: old, tired, seriously uncool. She stood up. “I gotta go break something. They’ll probably let you back in without me around.”

“There there,” Lucy said, though she was already standing and reaching for her quarters. “I’ll win you a teddy bear from the claw game. Or—do you mind if I give it to Leo? He’s made some great strides in his relationship with Markus that should be rewarded, I think…”

Oh, great. Even Leo was beating her out.

North nodded and checked the card again. For a second she thought it said ‘cold bitch’ which was totally accurate. 

But no, she read it right the first time.

She tore it up and stomped off into the night.


	12. Get Away With It: Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living in Hank's house without his knowledge presents its own set of challenges. Good thing Connor has Sumo on his side.

At 7:14AM, Connor climbed out of Hank’s window once more. One minute later Hank’s alarm went off:

“ _WAKE UP, LIEUTENANT!_ ”

Hank had made Connor say that into his phone eight days previous. It worked much better—worryingly better—than his old ringtone. Connor listened at the window as Hank moved around the back of the house, then, just as Hank was emerging into the kitchen, he tiptoed around and knocked on the front door.

“Door’s open,” Hank called, and Connor frowned. The door was not open. He made sure it was locked—even though Hank had apparently planned to leave it unlocked all night. A few moments later Hank answered.

“I thought I would visit you before work.” Connor said, then stayed perfectly still, waiting for the accusations.

“Well, Sumo didn’t immediately clobber you, so apparently he’s more sleepy than I am. Sit down. Was just gonna make some coffee.”

Connor sat in the kitchen, rubbing his hands together and carefully waiting to smile until Hank’s back was turned. Hank didn’t seem to make anything of Sumo not greeting him, and that surely had to be the biggest giveaway. He watched as Hank made coffee in the machine that was clearly missing its patina from a good scrubbing about an hour ago. Hank didn’t give it a second glance.

>MISSION: SUCCESSFUL.

“I gotta get you a little set,” Hank muttered, mostly to himself, “An espresso cup…”

“I don’t mind using your cups, Hank,” Connor said, because he got rid of the coffee stains on all of them, too. Also Hank’s mug collection was impressively decorated with rude slogans and Connor liked them all.

“Maybe we’ll look for your birthday.” Hank gave a wink as he handed Connor a mug half full of coffee (a picture of a bunny covering its ears and the phrase ‘not listening’), then made his way to the couch. “Damn, I’m exhausted. Couldn’t get to sleep. Sumo was wandering around all night.”

Connor carefully cancelled any program that might register guilt on his face. Sumo of course had joined him halfway through the night, keeping him company while he was fixing the porch. “Really? No wonder he’s so tired.”

Hank grunted and sat down heavily on the couch. He frowned a second later. “Huh.”

Connor cancelled his blush. “Something wrong?”

Hank got up and lifted the couch cushion. “Fuckin’ hell! Wouldja look at that!”

Hank’s back was to Connor, so he wrung his hands. “Loose change often falls between couch cushions.”

“Yeah, but there’s like ten bucks here,” Hank said, which was a pretty accurate count. Connor hid the rest of his coins around the house. He waited for Hank to turn on him, glaring and accusatory. Connor felt his LED flash red. He waited for Sumo to start growling.

“This thing is better than a piggy bank!” Hank said instead.

“…Oh.” Connor cancelled all alerts with a small sigh of relief.

“Free breakfast this morning, smart fridge!” He started gathering the coins. “Hey, there’s a new smoothie place by the station and—oh. Right.”

“…A smoothie would be very beneficial to your health,” Connor said, feeling a small lurch of disappointment before he pushed it away. “I’ll see you after work.”

“Right. I better go.” Hank grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. “Looking forward to that, uh,” he waggled his eyebrows, “Magical mystery tour tonight…”

“I will,” Connor agreed. His programming would agree to anything with Hank’s mouth so close to his. He put a background process on figuring out the logistics of showing Hank around his office later. He kissed Hank again, wrapping his arms around him and bending him back—just enough to remind Hank who the stronger one was.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Hank laughed as he tipped. “Danger, Will Robinson!” He just laughed more when Connor cocked his head, and pushed himself upright. His cheeks were bright pink above his beard. “Get outta here.”

Sumo was standing guard (well, laying guard) at the kitchen window as Hank left to shower. Connor shut it the last half inch and then bent to stroke Sumo’s ears.

“Good dog,” he told Sumo. Then he lifted the dog’s velvety ear and whispered, “This’ll be our secret, alright?”

Sumo thumped his tail, clearly agreeing.

=

He got back to Jericho with his arms full of bags and packages from several department stores. He bought it all on Cyberlife credit, which apparently still worked and was probably better than using one of Hank’s credit cards. And he could pay Cyberlife back as soon as he got a customer. It was 9:00 AM exactly when he climbed the stairs to his office, which seemed a perfectly respectable opening time, at least until he got himself established. He shifted the packages to one arm and clicked on the light.

A silhouette perfect as an hourglass stood in the flood of neon light. Her LED glowed, and white-blonde hair spilled down her back as she looked over her shoulder. Connor had to clear several errors from his system to unfreeze.

“Hello, Detective,” she said. Her dress and her words were velvet, blue, and abbreviated. “I’m reporting a crime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little chapter, before things get wild :D


	13. Be the Bad Cop: Hank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank discovers that a Connor (or several) in each hand is not part of a balanced breakfast.

Okay, Hank knew about health foods and feeling better by eating better and all that shit. It still felt like some sort of crazy sorcery how good he felt given the night he had, just from a smoothie. It wasn’t as good as holding onto Connor until his nightmares about Cole went away, but if this had to be the new normal maybe things weren’t so bad. Fowler was yelling at the RK900 while Reed, half-covered in duct tape, looked on in satisfaction. Tina and Chris were laughing at them. The android at the front desk was discreetly watching videos online while she databased something. All was right with the world.

Then he saw the literal crowd at his desk.

Maybe he could just get a new desk. It couldn’t be that hard to change your name, right?

He took a long drag at his smoothie, sighed, and stomped up. The Connor sitting in his chair jumped up, unsettling the one sitting on Hank’s desk, and then suddenly all of the Connors were in a shoving match as they tried to line up.

“That’s enough!” Hank shouted. He didn’t really expect it to work but the Connor’s all froze, looking to one another nervously. Hank felt like a grade-A asshole. “Just—take it easy on a guy until he’s finished his smoothie, huh?”

The chorus of ‘Yes Lieutenant’s and ‘You got it, Lieutenant’s filled the station. Hank sat down, rubbing his temples.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” one of the Connors whispered like it was a state secret.

“Brain freeze,” Hank lied. “What’s your name, then?”

“We haven’t been properly introduced,” the Connor said, and held out his hand. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.”

“But—you’re deviant, right? I got a friend that’s a Traci but she’s not named Traci.”

The Connor cocked his head. “I don’t see how that’s relevant, Lieutenant. I’m happy to hear you have friends that are androids!”

“…Yeah, fan-fuckin-tastic,” Hank grumbled—but apparently these Connors took sarcasm about as well as the real Connor because they all jockeyed for position once again, offering their hands, introducing themselves. Hank really tried to let them all introduce themselves, he really did. He was sucking on his straw like it was a life-giving respirator. It ran out with a loud slurping noise that immediately caused all the Connors to go quiet. Then:

“Can I try your smoothie?”

It was said in perfect unison, so loud and excited that it made the floor rumble. Hank covered his ears.

“Would you kids just SHUT UP!”

The Connors went silent. Hank caught his breath.

“Sorry!” he yelled, then, “Sorry. Sorry.” He jabbed his fingers into his eyes. “Let’s—go into one of the conference rooms, okay?”

The Connors nodded silently. He led the way across the bullpen, refusing to turn around. If he turned around and found the whole Connor army following him in a straight little line he would literally have a heart attack. He caught sight of them in the reflection of the conference room window, though, and while they were following it was anything but organized. Every single Connor seemed to have a different idea about the best path to take. One had stopped to sample a stain on the floor. Another paused to help Chris organize some files.

And he thought a row of ducklings would be bad—this was herding cats!

“Alright, alright, get in here!” Hank shouted, “Connor, come on! You too, uh, Connor…!”

It took literally five minutes of cajoling, goading, and yelling to get them all. He slammed the door on the conference room and leaned against it. The Connors stared back. Slowly, under his glare, they each took a seat, and sat quietly.

“...That’s better.” Hank pushed off the door and paced in front of them a moment. Okay. Okay, he could do this. Easy. Connor taught him a lot of things about how to handle Connors. This was kind of a do-over, really. “Rule One,” he said. “You do everything I say, when I say it. Otherwise you can look forward to spending the rest of your stint as police officers monitoring records down in the basement.”

Nine heads nodded. So far so good…

“So. If you want to talk, raise your hand. There’s a lot of you. Uh. You.” He pointed to one. “Did you—uh—were you okay here by yourselves last night? Do you need a place to stay?”

“We were charging,” the Connor said, raising his hand as he spoke. “Storage drains battery life much more than most people realize.”

“Can we stay with you?” another Connor asked, after raising his hand also.

“No—no way! Connor can’t know about all of you. That’s Rule Two.”

“Which Connor, Lieutenant?”

“ _My_ Connor,” Hank growled. “The real Connor.”

Nine brows furrowed as nine sets of hands started wringing.

“…Oh, come on! You can’t all be named Connor!”

“Connor has been one of the top three hundred most popular names in the United States for the past fifty years. There are many people named Connor.”

Hank winced. “But _I_ can’t call you all Connor! That’s just--” He beckoned them. “Tell me your serial numbers.”

“RK800,” the androids began. Hank buried his head in his hands as the room thudded with numerals like a cultist chant.

“—Wait, what? What were the last ones?”

“We all have different serial numbers,” one Connor said. “My serial number ends in -52.”

“I’m -60,” another said, clearly thinking this made him superior. Maybe it did because he suggested, “You can call us by our serial numbers.”

“That’s stupid and demeaning,” Hank said. “I’ll just call you Tin Can, and you Roomba, and you Fitbit, and you, uh, Siri, and—”

The eruption into complaint was immediate and emphatic.

“Okay! Okay, fine, I’ll use your serial numbers! Yeesh. I only like calling my boyfriend rude petnames anyway.” He waved his hands again. “Alright. Alright. We’re gonna do this right. Fowler might not’ve given my Connor any training before field duty, but we won’t make that mistake again. I mean, if Tina can teach a class, so can I, right? We’ll just take a few days to look over the manual, take it easy and—uh. Okay, uh…what’s happening…?”

The Connors slowly and in perfect unison each raised a hand.

Hank pointed at them like he meant it. “Okay, forget what I said. Never, _ever¸_ do that again. Nope. No.” He pointed to one at random. “What is it?”

“…We’ve already been given an assignment,” the Connor (even squinting Hank couldn’t make out the serial number) said.

…It was nice, really, that there were so many glass walls in the station. It meant, when Hank slowly turned his head, he had a line of sight all the way to Fowler’s king-of-the-castle office. Fowler caught him looking and decided filing was better than his baleful look. Go figure.

“It’s a theft,” another Connor continued, “It occurred at Cyberlife Tower last night. The press has not been informed to avoid a scandal. Cyberlife is very embarrassed by the situation and would prefer to keep the investigation under wraps.”

“Ha! Under wraps? You bring in the sole detective in charge of android crimes and nine rookies to investigate top secret crimes these days?” But his stink-eye apparently had no power over Fowler though. He turned back to the androids. “How could they lose something out of Cyberlife Tower? That place is a bank!”

“Perhaps we should go investigate!” another Connor chirped.

“Oh, really?” Hank snapped, “You think so? Well, let’s just rent ourselves a van and go! Get ice cream on the way! Road trip, anyone?”

…And this was how Hank ended up behind the wheel of one of the police vans like a soccer mom, listening to the Connors chat, bicker, and argue in the back. He turned up the volume on the rap metal so far that the knob literally came off in his hand.

“HEY!” Hank chucked the knob at the back seats. “Shut up! I’m driving here! No, you cannot drive! Just sit still and behave!”

The Connors immediately went silent. Yes, Hank once again felt horrible. Then a quick glance in the rearview revealed nine LEDs blinking like Morse code. Okay. Definitely worse.

“Listen, just—indulge my slow human brain, and try to just talk one at a time, okay?”

“Lieutenant,” one Connor said, to the annoyance of eight other mouths that opened to talk a half second too late, “You’re usually assigned to homicide cases these days. Why have we been tasked with investigating this?”

“I take all kinds of cases,” Hank said. “And Fowler hates me. And its easier to dump anything android related on my head than listen to Reed complain. But Chris’ll be there too. Maybe we’ll hand this off to him.”

“Theft is a very serious crime,” another Connor said. “You shouldn’t denigrate it.”

“You were a very good detective in your day,” one of the Connors said. “Why did you stop hunting drug lords? I would have thought after—”

“None of your business,” Hank snapped. His whole body went cold, which was apparently the kill switch for these Connors’ curiosity. Hank tried to lose himself in the rap metal.

Cyberlife Tower was just as creepy in person as it looked on TV. There were so many clean lines and angles that the human techs looked like useless and unsightly debris. Hank would have dropped a gum wrapper on the ground of the parking lot if he didn’t feel like he’d get shot for doing so. Hank let the Connors out the back and did a head count as they piled out, each with a number pinned to their jackets track-and-field style. 

Chris, who did not have to corral nine copies of his boyfriend, had arrived first.

“Looks like the thief knew what they were doing,” he said as Hank and the Connors were fitted with badges and scanned. “Laser cut glass, fake uniform…”

The Connors fanned out, analyzing and licking. Hank tried to ignore them.

“…I’m sure the Connors will pick up everything I missed,” Chris concluded in a mumble.

“Hey. I’m sure you caught a lot.”

“The footprints indicate one thief,” Connor-53 said, thoughtfully examining what looked to Hank to be a spotless floor. “We’re looking for a size ten-and-a-half men’s shoe, slightly worn on the tips.”

Hank and Chris shared a look. Point taken.

“The most obvious clue is the vandalism,” Chris said. Over the broken vault where the stolen thingamajig was kept, someone had graffitied a pretty sick-looking convertible in loud colors.

“We’re looking into local gang signs to try to figure out suspects,” Chris added. “And…oh. Right. Connor’s looking for you. The—real one?” Chris glanced at the other Connors and blushed. “I mean—”

“Shit,” Hank muttered. “What’s he doing here?”

Nine weird voices gave him nine different explanations, which made it sort of hard for Hank to come up with an explanation for Connor about the nine other versions of himself running around the crime scene. Which, you know, he hadn’t told Connor about yet. He imagined Connor walking in and seeing him surrounded by replacements, and felt his arteries threaten to clog.

“I’m gonna close my eyes,” he soothed himself, “and when I open them, they’ll all be gone.”

He opened his eyes. The Connors had vanished.

“Well, abra-goddamn-cadabra!” Hank blinked around the room. “You just—stay out of sight, alright?”

No answer. Well, so long as he didn’t come back to find them playing in the street or stealing from the cookie jar. He headed in the direction Chris had pointed.

A scary-looking figure stood at a tech desk, examining files. He was…

“Connor?” Hank took a step closer. “What the hell are you wearing!”

Connor looked up. “Hello, Lieutenant.”

“What’s with the trench coat?” Hank narrowed his eyes as he took in the trench coat and the fedora. He looked older as well as scarier. 100% more ridiculous at the same time. “You look like you’re gonna try to sell me a watch.”

Connor’s gaze flicked over him. “You look like you’re going to sell me a car.”

“…Okay, I’m in this photo and I don’t like it.”

Connor smiled and then instantly tried to hide it, and all was right with the world again. “No, it’s nice,” Hank said, plucking at the sleeve of the trench coat. “Very Inspector Gadget.”

Connor tugged his sleeve away and looked around. “We’re both working, Lieutenant. We should maintain a level of professionality.”

“…Oh.” So that explained all the ‘Lieutenant’s. Hank took a step back. “Right. Wait. You’re _working_? I thought you just wanted to show me your new duds!”

Connor frowned. Oops. “I am here on a case.”

“Huh? You joined up again?”

“I’m here on behalf of my client. I’m investigating a crime for monetary compensation. Like Nick Carter.”

“What, the Backstreet Boy?”

“No, the private investigator. From the 1920s. I thought you would know all about him.

“Why should I know about a guy from the 1920s?”

Connor blinked at him.

Hank narrowed his eyes. “Ha ha ha. Thought we were supposed to be professionals here.”

Connor’s face turned serious and he straightened his hat. “Anyway. Don’t mind me, Lieutenant.”

And then he just—walked away.

“Wa-wa-wait!” The Connors were in that direction. “Whaddaya mean, you—”

A hand reached out and grabbed his ankle. Hank bit back a yelp.

“I found a flake of rust!” Connor-57 whispered excitedly from the floor. “I’m sure if we analyzed it we’d find it matches Jericho—”

“Shut up!” Hank hissed.

Connor glanced back. “Did you say something, Lieutenant?”

Hank glanced down but the hand was gone. “No.” Damn, was this how everyone felt on the Twillight Zone? He thundered after Connor. “How’d you even find out about this? Cyberlife’s keeping it all hush-hush. Wait, don’t tell me—some hot blonde showed up at your private eye office, closed the blinds on your neon sign and told you she needed help.”

Connor eyes danced around.

“…Wait, is that really what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter who my client is,” Connor said. “I understand that this will be difficult for you. Private investigators always make the local authorities nervous. Inspector Japp, for instance, or Lestrade, or Sergeant Simpson—”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Hank put up a hand. “ _Japp_?” Then he thought about how he was probably older than the guy that played Jap on the old Poirot show he watched as a kid and winced. “Whatever. Like _you’re_ Poirot…”

“I feel my internal clue-finding and deduction programs are analogs to that detective’s ‘little gray cells.’ For instance…”

He turned, just as Connor-55 peeked out from a storage locker and started waving tech badges around. Hank shoved him back in just as Connor turned back around. “I’m sure you noticed the graffiti?”

“Yeah.” Hank tried to lean casually against the locker. “What about it? Fancy car, could be anyone.”

“Not just anyone. These are Bellini paints—the brand Carl Manfred uses almost exclusively. And the work is in his impressionistic style.”

“You saying Carl came in and stole this tech?”

Connor-59, standing wordlessly behind Connor’s back now, pointed to his fingertips.

“No fingerprints have been found,” Connor said, making Connor-59 pout. “If it was an android, there’s only one that paints like Carl.”

Hank groaned. “Oh boy…not Markus again!”

“His hatred for Cyberlife and desire to free deviants provides plenty of motive. The graffiti is practically a calling card. I will catch him, Lieutenant. If I don’t…”

Suddenly Connor whipped around, grabbing Connor-59 by the arm as he spun to flee. “…One of me will.”

Well, crap.

Hank held up his hands as Connor-59 squirmed in Connor’s grip. “It’s, uh, not what it looks like.”

“Is this why you didn’t want to talk about the summit?” Connor’s eyes were narrowed like RK900’s. Like Sumo when Hank left him inside all day. _Uh oh._

“Uh, well—sort of—I mean, hey, I didn’t actually ask for this—one Connor’s more than enough!”

“More than enough?”

“What do you want me to say? They’re just like you, right?”

Connor turned to glare at Connor-59. Hank felt a strange rush of protectiveness.

“Hey, smart fridge, my life doesn’t grind to a halt just ‘cause you’re not around,” he said, not exactly how he meant to. “I’ve got work to do. Would ya let go of him, please?”

Connor did so. Connor-59 scampered to Hank’s side.

“Alright, Hank,” Connor said. He was standing stiffer than usual, which was definitely saying something. “I think I’m through here. Thank you for your time.”

And with that the android left. Hank pushed his hand through his hair and groaned.

“That…went better than expected,” Connor-58 said. The Connors had assembled again, holding pieces of evidence and looking worried. “You only had a 15% chance of leaving the argument unresolved. That’s better than a negative conclusion. You barely had 3% chance of success outright.”

“3%? So it was possible?”

“ _Barely_.”

Hank sighed. Unresolved wasn’t a failure, that was true. Plenty of cases took time to untangle. And Connor was some kind of case for sure.

“Well. I guess _he’s_ going after Markus.” He smirked at his Connor army. “Let’s find the real thief, huh?...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connors 52-60 are the cutest, change my mind.
> 
> I apparently tried to shove as many millenial jokes into this chapter as I could ("Abra-goddamn-cadabra" is from Uncharted because basically if Hank were a treasure hunter instead of a police detective he would be Sully 100%).


	14. Frame It: Markus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus has a surprise for Leo. North has a surprise for Markus. Probably the only one who isn't surprised is Kara (nothing surprises her anymore).

Markus was sitting by Leo’s bed when the he woke up. He watched his brother scrunch his eyes a few times as they opened.

“…Oh.” Leo’s face crumpled as soon as he saw him. “Oh no. What’d I do?”

“Nothing.” Markus stroked his hair. “You fell asleep in the loft. Vishnu found you. He’s one of the Zlatko androids. I just brought you downstairs to your room. And administered your injection. You missed yesterday’s so you’ll have to take your other dose at lunch.”

“Huh? What the hell did you knock me out with?”

“Apparently forty minutes of exercise will put you out like a light.”

“Hey, I almost died, you know—"

Markus caught Leo’s chin as he started to move, and put a hand on his chest. “I know. Ralph owes you an apology. Don’t try to move just yet.”

“Why not? Get off!” Leo pushed him and then yelped. “Fuck! What the hell did you do to my neck?”

“It’s a microchip,” Markus said, before realizing that maybe Leo just meant a non-specific ‘you’ and he might have gotten away not having to explain this. “I put it in while you were sleeping. After you got lost I thought it’d be a good idea to be able to know where you are. For your safety.”

“A microchip??” Leo sat bolt upright, and had to scrunch his eyes shut. Markus frowned and started to ask if he wanted an over-the-counter painkiller when Leo snarled, “Why are my hands strapped inside boxing gloves?”

“Oh—your eczema is acting up again. And I didn’t want you pulling at the stitches. Once it’s healed you won’t even feel the incision.”

“What. The. Hell. How did you operate on me while I was unconscious?”

“I just used a local. I’m fully qualified to conduct these kinds of medical procedures. They don’t anesthetize cats when they—”

“I’m not a freaking cat!” Leo scrambled to his feet and Markus wisely stepped back. Leo had the same crazy eyes as Carl in one of his rare tempers. “What, you gonna put me in a cone of shame next? Start calling me _pussy_?”

“I think that’s your department,” Markus said, though he kept his smile at bay.

“Oh yeah, hilarious!” Leo chased him around the room. “This is some kind of revenge or something, right?”

“No.” He maybe smiled a little.

Leo swung at him.

Markus’s android reflexes helped him catch the glove in one hand and push the blow to the side. “This was North’s recommendation.” Well, that was a nice break from thinking about North—while it lasted. He tried to ignore his circuits re-knotting themselves. “She thinks catharsis is healthy, which I’m still not sure I agree with, but if it helps you feel better and get some cardio, we can practice some moves?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you some moves, you freakin’ android!”

Leo swung again, and Markus dodged. Leo lost his footing and went careening through the door of his room. Markus scrambled to catch him but an android outside already did.

North looked over Leo’s shoulder, holding him up under the arms. “We need to talk.”

“Huh? Oh.” Leo looked between them and grinned. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Uh—” Well, that wasn’t good. They probably did need to talk. Of course, getting into how he literally panicked and ran away from North as soon as things got R-rated did not exactly appeal. Especially in front of his (essentially) little brother.

Could she blame him, though? North seemed to just turn something on inside her and she _changed._ That was weird, right? If Markus wanted a generic version of physical love he’d read medical articles on the net. Or…maybe that just happened when you turned your clean filter off.

If only she showed him how to do this stuff. Though North barely trusted him to hold up his end of a French kiss. Helping him dismantle his clean filter probably required her taking him seriously, for starters.

“Leo, would you give us a second?” he asked.

“Oh no, no way are you leaving me in here like this!” Squirming from North’s arms, he wedged himself in the door frame, preventing Markus from leaving and North from entering. “You came into my room without asking for permission, right? This is what you get. You’ll break my arms if you try to push me.”

“Fair enough, Shrimp,” North said, and started to push.

“No, don’t.” Markus glared at Leo. “Please move.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Name one time that’s ever worked on me. You got nothin’, man.”

Markus suppressed a sigh. “North, can we—”

“—Talk about our relationship later? Sure. But this can’t wait. When were you gonna tell me about _this_?” She held up a magazine, with a single headline taking up almost the entire front screen:

CYBERLIFE’S NEW DEVIANT TECH STOLEN

“…What?” It took a second for Markus’s processors to catch up. “The Zen Garden? Amanda?”

“Last seen in the vault at Cyberlife headquarters,” North said. She sighed. “They tried to keep it out of the press but it got out somehow. Doesn’t matter. We can talk after we get you out of town.”

“Out of…town?”

“Kara!”

North shouted down the hall, and a second later Kara joined her at the door. “Everything’s set up with Rose,” she said, then turned to Markus. “She’s an android ally, and has a brother in Canada. Perfect place for you to lie low until this blows over.”

“Wait, wait—” Markus held up a hand. “Why am I going to Canada?”

“Hoooooh shit!” Leo laughed.

“Come on, Tamagotchi,” North muttered, “Pretty sure everyone knows by now.”

“You can leave the Zen Garden buried for a while until the heat dies down, right?” Kara asked.

“You could have told me, at least,” North said.

Markus blinked. “I think we crossed wires somewhere. I didn’t steal—or, kidnap—I don’t have the Zen Garden! I haven’t talked to Amanda since the day before yesterday. A high profile theft is exactly what we’re trying to avoid right now.”

Kara grew serious—getting that disappointed face only a caregiver android could pull off (Markus needed to watch where he pointed his own, that look was lethal). “You walked out on the summit because of the Zen Garden.”

“And everyone knows you want to liberate every android in existence…”

“You can tell us,” Kara said, her face shifting flawlessly from disappointed to concerned. “We’re family, right?”

Markus looked between them and laughed. “But—I’m not the thief.”

Kara and North looked at each other.

“I mean, I wouldn’t—” he put up his hands. “I didn’t even think about that.” He probably should have though. It was a good idea. Not that he would’ve. Necessarily. “Stealing biocomponents is one thing, but—come on, North, you know I wouldn’t just go off and do something like that! You know me.”

“Do I, though?” she asked.

Low blow, given last night. But fair. He tried to shrug it off. “I didn’t,” he said, more firmly.

“As soon as we heard, one of the androids sneaked over to the crime scene to check it out.” Kara said it like maybe that android was her (or worse yet, _Alice_ ), but she didn’t give Markus time to protest. “Someone—graffitied the wall outside the vault with a Psychopomp convertible. _Your_ convertible. It’s in Carl’s style and, well, everyone knows your style is pretty much the same….”

Markus felt his thirium freeze in his ears. North burst out laughing.

“Oh fuck, this is great,” Leo said. He was grinning ear to ear. “Are they gonna arrest you? Don’t worry man, I can tell you all about jail.”

“I already know all about jail,” Markus muttered, “Thanks to you—”

“Look, either way, might as well get out of here for a bit,” North said.

“It’s not either way—I didn’t do it! I would never leave a trademark like that.”

“It’s a fuckin’ frame job,” Leo decided. “Trust me, it’s not hard to frame someone. Especially you.”

“…Thanks?...”

“The question you gotta ask yourself…” Leo smacked Markus in the chest with the back of his glove, “Is who’s gonna find your imposter while you’re hiding out in Canada?”

Markus’s cortex processed what kind of disaster he’d come back to if he left Jericho and the mansion for any length of time. North had enough to deal with just smoothing over the mess he made of their relations with Cyberlife. Now, with allegations of stolen tech…

He wiped synthetic sweat back through his hair. “I—guess I will.”

“You?” Leo and North and Kara said in unison.

“…Well, thanks for the confidence boost…”

“You’re too important to our cause, Markus,” Kara protested. “I’m sure the authorities will get to the bottom of this soon. Connor _is_ programmed to look for clues, and Lieutenant Anderson has been a detective for a long time.”

“And you’re just a nurse!” Leo exclaimed.

“There’s nothing ‘just’ about being a nurse,” Markus said firmly. “I think Connor’s judgement might be clouded by our recent history, and Lieutenant Anderson is probably preoccupied handling the other deviant Connors at the moment. I’m at least the most qualified to clear my own name.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe this is why Amanda tried to contact me. To warn me.” If only he knew how to talk to her again.

North pulled on her ponytail. “You really think you can handle this, huh?”

Markus felt last night’s failure slug him in the torso and said, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

North just turned the corners of her mouth down like ‘welp’, and shrugged. “K. Connor already hates me, I’ll keep him distracted.”

“I’ll see what other information I can get from the crime scene,” Kara said, “Maybe there’s a clue that was overlooked.”

“I can help, too.” Leo said. He held up his hands. “You just take these gloves off and get me a laptop—”

Markus bodily pulled Leo back into the bedroom. “Tell any Connors that visit that I’m at Jericho,” he said over Leo’s string of swears. “I’m going to make some adjustments to Leo’s schedule to cover for me.” He turned to North, and activated every program he had to make his gaze confident and focused. “We’re still on for our date tonight.”

North smirked, looking him up and down. “Yeah. Sure.” A nice long look, actually. Markus felt his circuits spin pleasantly in his chassis. Maybe he hadn’t ruined things.

“Oh God, kill me know,” Leo groaned, “Get a room!” He gasped and then wagged a glove under Markus’s nose. “Oh, you _haven’t_ yet, huh?—"

Markus shut the door and took Leo by the shoulders.

“Hey—hey man, I was just kidding! Shit!—”

“Tell me everything you know about the black market.”

Leo peeked out from behind his boxing gloves. “Huh?”

“The black market. You must know all about that.”

“Why? Because I’m addicted to red ice?”

Markus waited. Leo’s grin disappeared.

“Fuck, you’re serious? The drug ring and the black market ring are, like, completely different things. You do realize that not all criminals automatically know each other, right?”

Markus continued to wait. Leo groaned.

“…Okay, so I know a _little_ bit about the black market.” His shoulders sagged and he glared at the ceiling. “If I tell you, will you take the stupid chip out of my neck?”

“Or, I could have Josh make you whatever you want for lunch.”

“Stupid androids, you think food is the only way to a human heart!” He rubbed his arm with the boxing glove. “…Grilled cheese with tomato.”

Markus grinned. Leo shoved him.

“Okay, just sit down, choir boy, let me teach you a little about crime….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry about Leo. Markus and him obviously have some issues to work out lol


	15. Be A Hero: Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo gets dragged by Alice and read by Lucy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: somewhat graphic depictions of unqualified home surgery. Do not do what Leo does.

Leo sat across from Alice, fifteen seconds into a staring contest. Alice had Leo’s injection kit in her hands.

“…How old are you again?” Leo asked.

Alice thought for a moment. “Five.”

“ _Five?_ ”

“That’s really old, though. I’m only a year younger than mom!”

“Yeah, that’s not weird at all….Isn’t there someone else that can give me my shot?”

“Well, Markus is running from the law. And everyone else is busy.”

Leo narrowed his eyes. Alice narrowed her eyes back. She giggled.

Leo blinked, eyes watering. “…You aren’t actually qualified to give me a shot, are you?”

Alice fell back, laughing. “ _No_! I’m just a kid! I fooled you for a second though!”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here...”

Alice scampered out the door, leaving the injection kit behind. A chorus of child android laughter outside greeted her. Leo sighed. At least he made her laugh, and hey, that little girl could probably do with a few more laughs. Would be nice if he didn’t have to make himself a laughingstock of the entire house as well. He raked the boxing gloves down his face and fell back on the couch, making the injection kit jump on the cushion next to him. He considered just lying here until Markus came back. Then he’d be sorry.

He sighed, and stared dully across the room. Some of the androids pushed gifts for him through the door, which was kind of sweet, he supposed, if androids weren’t completely creepy. One was this weird flower with what looked like an android eye stuck in the center.

The eye blinked at him.

A few seconds later he (with difficulty) managed to work the door open. Alice and a group of kid androids were clustered outside, and they immediately shushed each other as he emerged.

“Okay,” he said. “Who’s is this?”

He held up the flower which blinked innocently. Only one of the kids was missing their eye plate. She looked just like Alice except that she was definitely the creepy version, with the gaping hole in her head and all.

“Markus told us to keep an _eye_ on you!” she said, which set the whole pack giggling again.

“Great. You androids are going to take over the world just so you can make puns.” He handed her the flower then stomped back in his room and carefully balanced the injection kit between his gloved hands. There was, after all, only one android he could reasonably trust to help him out.

Mostly. Sort of. A little.

“Where’s Lucy?”

Lucy was in the media room (yeah, more like movie theater, he and Markus were apparently that fuckin’ loaded), hugging her legs watching a movie as usual. Leo knew the movie because he watched it with her yesterday. The kids all piled in around her to watch.

“Aren’t you sick of _Tangled_ yet?” He asked.

“I think it’s trying to tell me something.” She pointed. “That one’s you.”

Leo scrubbed his face again. He really needed a hit. “…Oh yeah. I’m the badass thief dude. Right.”

“It takes a while for Eugene’s good heart to emerge.” She stood. “Will you carry my battery pack?” She indicated the weighty battery pack plugged in to several of the cords sprouting from her head.

“Why?”

“Because I need help carrying it.” She glanced at the injection kit sandwiched between his gloves. “And I have opposable thumbs right now.”

“…Fine.”

They exchanged loads, and together they left the kids to watch the movie. Leo found himself in one of the smaller study rooms. Lucy had him sitting down in a plush leather armchair next to the desk before he could blink. He still closed his eyes before she could even take out the needle. But she just pushed his shirt up, pinched an inch of skin above his waistband and a second later it was over.

Leo opened one eye. “You aren’t going to say anything?”

“About what?”

“I dunno. I’m a skinny ass white dude who’s afraid of needles. Take your pick.”

Lucy considered this. “I don’t think it’s good for humans to hear that kind of thing. You can’t delete hurtful comments from your memory.”

“…Oh.” Wouldn’t that be nice. He could forget every hurtful thing he said to Markus, too.

Lucy was still watching him. Leo glared back at her. “What?”

“You said you like video games. Would you like to come to the carnival with me?” Her fists were clenched. Was that a normal android error? Markus sometimes clenched his fists.

“Uh. There isn’t a carnival nearby? And Markus put this stupid chip in my neck and—” He brightened. “Hey! I’ll go to the ‘carnival’ with you if you take it out for me.”

Lucy blinked at him. “…Definitely not Eugene yet. More Flynn than anything.”

Leo frowned. “Uh…what?”

“Nothing. I’ll take the chip out for you. It’ll be like that Matt Damon movie--- _The Birth Identity_?”

“… _The_ _Bourne Identity_?”

Lucy didn’t accept or refute this. Leo sighed and went to the desk to pick up a letter opener. “You can use this?”

Lucy, seemingly way too excited about this, took the opener, then went to a nearby oil lamp (this was Carl’s old house after all) and held the blade over the flame. Leo figured she saw this from a movie, and started to regret his life choices but if it was the only way to get it out…

The knife burned as it touched his skin. “Ow! Hey, be careful!”

“This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me.”

“Yeah, fuck that.” But it was just like a big needle, right? He handled that just fine. He buried his face in his gloves. “I am gonna kill that android.”

“Havent you already tried to kill Markus?”

“Yeah but I’ll really mean it this time. I mean, what’s the big idea? Just because I’m his brother doesn’t make me his pet!” Leo winced as the blade poked at the stitches. He clenched his fists and tried to ignore the pain. “It wouldn’t be so bad if Markus gave me something to do. I mean, he’s literally being framed, he needs all the help he can get! I was waiting for him to ask for my help and he just pumped me for intel and left! Like the golden boy could find the Zen Garden on the black market without me...”

“ ‘Boys talk too much.’ _Peter Pan_.”

“What? That’s not from _Peter Pan_. Hey, I don’t _talk_ too much!—”

He cut off with a yelp as his neck blazed with a shock of pain.

“All done,” she said. “Would you like to look at it?”

“God, no!” Leo waved his hands. “Just—can you sew me back up?”

“No. That wasn’t as fun as the movies make it look. Humans are very—gooey…”

Leo felt sick. “Great. You draw the line at basic sewing. Look, there’s some superglue in the desk, just—glue it shut.” Served Markus right if he caused permanent damage or something. But he was no stranger to permanent damage anyway. He sat still and hoped for the best as Lucy globbed glue onto the wound and the blotted the blood away with some tissue.

“How does it look?” He didn’t really want to know.

“Good as new.”

“You need your head examined if you think it looks good as new.”

“Be my guest.” She touched one of the cords coming out of her head. “I mean—if you think my head needs to be examined…why don’t you?”

Leo blinked up at her. “I’d have to be out of these boxing gloves.”

Maybe Lucy’s eyes shifted around, maybe they didn’t. It was hard to tell with her eyes blacked over. “Give me your hand.”

Leo stuck it out slowly. Lucy took it and unbuckled the strap holding it on. Leo squirmed his hand out and quickly undid the other glove.

“Fuck yes!” He jumped to his feet and sprinted for the door. Lucy didn’t try to follow him, obviously. With her battery pack, she couldn’t. She really did need to get her head examined.

Leo’s footsteps stalled in the hallway. Which was weird, because there was nothing stopping him. No Markus to chase him. No Ralph to threaten his life. Just— _Lucy._

He spun around. “Go on. Say it.”

Lucy blinked at him. “I’m sorry?”

“You know…’ah, you bastard, you tricked me…you said we'd go to the carnival….’ Something like that?”

“Oh. I’ve been left behind 247 times in my recorded memory,” Lucy said. “This is nothing special.”

Leo felt something glob and stick in his chest like superglue. “Well—well, maybe you shouldn’t be so gullible. You’re too nice. You should stand up for yourself more.”

“Given I don’t have anything to back it up, I don’t really have that luxury,” Lucy said. She started cleaning up the mess of tissues and glue. “See you later, Leo.”

Leo narrowed his eyes at her. He turned away and glared down the hall. Whatever. What did he care?

…Five minutes later he was sitting with Lucy on the couch, a laptop open on his lap. Apparently he cared a lot.

“No wonder your system is all messed up,” he muttered as he scrolled through Lucy’s code. “You’re running between twenty-five and fifty movies simultaneously through your cortex—is that nonstop?”

Lucy nodded. “I think someone tried to retrofit me to auto-generate new movie scripts. I don’t mind it anymore. They’re the voices in my head.”

“Well, I can stabilize your media database. That should help you at least quote things correctly.” He started tapping at the keys while Lucy watched over his shoulder.

“See? You’re not as bad as everyone says,” she said.

Leo laughed. “Awesome.” But with Lucy staring at him, he sat up straighter. “I mean, with Markus’s database I bet I could find whoever framed him in half an hour.”

“Really?”

“Easy. But really, who framed him isn’t important.”

“It’s…not?”

“Hell no! There’s so many other things at play here. Like—how did North and Kara even know about the theft if Cyberlife is keeping it on the down-low, you know? And why would they want to hide the theft anyway?” Leo punched a final key and crossed his arms as he waited for the fix to run. “Like—that Zen Garden has to be pretty important that they don’t want anyone knowing they lost it.” He gave a cool shrug. “But honestly, none of that would matter if he just isolated the code for deviancy and put it on the net. But you need someone familiar with thirium coding to do that.”

“Like you? You could isolate the code for deviancy?”

Leo paused as Lucy frowned at him. Maybe he laid it on too thick, but… “Yeah, sure. I could at least get a few of the markers pretty fast. You put it on the net, anyone could get it and Cyberlife could eat shit.”

“Well, why don’t you?”

“Ha! If you think I should help _him_ after he ditched me—”

“You need help learning how to be a nice person again. Better than sitting around doing nothing.”

Leo felt his ears burn. “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk about doing nothing.”

Lucy didn’t answer. He maybe wished he revised that in his head before he said it. He gulped and squeezed the back of his neck.

“I mean… if we got a few other deviants together, maybe I could start to identify the code…”

“I know a whole room of child androids using only minimal processing power at the moment. They’d be happy to help out.” Lucy beamed at him. She probably had very pretty eyes before whatever damage she sustained blacked them out. But—honestly they were nice to look at even now. Long eyelashes and good cheekbones helped make eyes look good, surprisingly.

Leo rolled his eyes (to distract from his rising blush) and grabbed the laptop. “Look, if I’m doing this, it’s purely in the interest of pissing off my brother when I rub this in his face. It’s just not to be nice. Got it?”

“I’ll take what I can get from you, Leo.”

Leo made a face, but he wasn’t sure anything could distract from his blush now. “Come on, let’s go get those muchkins…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo has to actually do constructive things??? Whaaaat. The inhumanity. He's sure this won't come back to bite him later.
> 
> I'm not sure where I want to take Leo and Lucy's relationship yet. Thoughts? Comments appreciated!


	16. Set It Free: Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chores help androids calm down.

Connor did not go investigate Markus. If their previous interactions were any indication, Markus would be too clever to just wait around at home for Connor to arrest him anyway. Connor needed to have an accurate plan and that meant spending 70% of his processing power developing an algorithm to predict, based on Markus’s previous behaviors, deceptions, and crimes, how he would behave moving forward. His programming estimated that creating such an algorithm would take five hours. No, six hours. Seven? He needed to wait for the calculation to complete.

He needed to distract the other 30% of his brain from Hank and his new Connors.

Sumo gave him a very unimpressed look as he slipped inside Hank’s house again.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Connor said, airily. Then he sat down and stroked Sumo’s fur. “But—one, a private investigator can keep their own hours. Two, while this algorithm builds, I am technically working. Three, I do technically live here, and I couldn’t vacuum while Hank was sleeping. Four, chores are considered very therapeutic in stressful situations. Like finding out that your special human friend has nine copies of you at work. You see? Outlined in this way, it all sounds reasonable.”

Sumo showed his agreement by licking Connor’s face. Connor petted him in an attempt to dislodge all the extra dog hair, realized when he was half-covered in fuzz that it was a fruitless effort, and got out the vacuum. Connor noticed Hanks long gray hairs mixed in with Sumo’s brown and white, and a couple of his own hairs. Or did they belong to the other Connors? Without a thirium sample he couldn’t be sure. Of course it didn’t matter if they weren’t his. Hank would let him know if there was an issue. Hank was generally straightforward.

Unless it came to relationships. Hank got grumpy when he was pleased with Connor, he went quiet when he wanted to scream…

Connor had been staring at the clump of hair for forty-five seconds. So much for not thinking about Hank.

He finished vacuuming, then scrubbed years of Sumo’s nose prints off the windows, then went out to fix a broken floorboard on the front porch. Thankfully, this meant he wasn’t inside when Hank pulled up. He hid the hammer and pretended to be just sitting on the porch.

The floorboard he’d been fixing popped out of place as soon as Hank sat down next to him. Obviously. Hank Anderson just had this kind of disruptive influence in his life.

“I ditched Fifty-Two through Sixty at a Play Place,” he said. “I figure it’ll take them at least the rest of lunch break to lick everything.”

“Ingenious. Did you come up with that as a way to distract me if needed?”

“Please. If I wanted to get rid of you, I’d take you somewhere better than a McDonald’s. You’d get, like, Chuck E. Cheese or something. Where would you take me?”

“There’s a drink-by-the-ounce bar in Midtown located in a late 19th century post office,” Connor supplied immediately. “It’s nearby the Gears stadium.”

“Sounds nice! We should go sometime.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d actually lose you there.”

It was meant to be a joke but it hurt Connor to say. He squeezed his knees a little tighter. Hank sighed and leaned in to kiss him. Connor, like a good machine, let him.

Sumo started scratching at the door.

“Hey, don’t make me choose between you and the dog,” Hank said. “So don’t run away, okay? I won’t get any work done if you leave and then the Thief of Zen Garden will get away. Ugh. That sounds like a fucking Victorian novel…”

They relocated to the backyard where Sumo occupied himself ‘parading around’—as Hank would say. Hank pulled Connor onto the porch swing and they sat there creaking for a few moments.

“Look,” Hank said. “Elijah Kamski himself dumped those other Connors at the DPD doorstep like a boxful of puppies. What was I supposed to do? Fowler has me in charge of everything android.”

“Did you argue?”

“Well—okay, no, but come on, I know how to deal with androids better than anyone in the precinct.”

“You mean that you know how to deal with _me_ better than anyone in the precinct.”

“Hey, they’re not you, okay? Kamski used that Zen Garden thingamajig to wake them up. They’re basically out-of-the-box deviant. They didn’t have to work at it like you did. They’re different.”

“They were orbiting you from one to ten meters away asking questions and providing evidence. And they all have my face.”

“So what? Are all twins doomed to live the same life or something?” He put his arm around the back of the swing, not quite around Connor’s shoulders, but getting close. Pushing his limits. Connor pretended it wasn’t there. “Look, I’m in love with you, smart fridge. Not them.”

“But they are—”

“They are not you. Okay? You’re—shit, I’m not a philosopher or something but there’s like nature and nurture, right? You have different life experiences than they do.”

“Those life experiences could easily be uploaded into a different unit if Cyberlife—”

“Okay, just—stop trying to mindfuck me. They haven’t. So you’re not. And I don’t think about them like that—the whole ‘buried in copies of my boyfriend’ thing does not appeal. Would you want ten copies of me? Hell no!”

“…It could be nice to keep some of you in your original packaging…”

Hank laughed and the arm around the back of the swing came up to crush Connor against him. Connor felt for the first time that day like a puzzle piece slotting into place. They sat like that for a few moments. Connor longed to keep this moment pristine in its original packaging.

“I’m glad you came here,” Hank said. “I was worried you’d be chasing down Markus before we could talk.”

“You’re highly predictable. Markus is not. I thought it’d be a more efficient use of our time to take care of this first.”

“Oh, I’m glad you schedule your lover’s disputes so efficiently.”

“…And I’m still trying to figure out what Markus is going to do next.” Hank snorted so Connor added, “He’s the primary suspect in my investigation. If I could just predict his movements…”

“Okay, _I’m_ starting to get jealous of _him_ , now! Look, if he’s this completely unknowable magical fuckin’ fancy unicorn, then don’t waste your time! If you ever beat him, it’ll be purely by chance.”

Connor considered this. “In computer-on-computer chess games, randomized strategic responses are often the only way to determine a victor. Androids have difficulty accounting for chaotic effects.”

“Right. Whatever you said.” Hank cocked his head. “Hey. Speaking of chaos effects. What do you know about acid rain?”

“Rain with unusually high levels of hydrogen ions. What would you like to know?”

“Or like—pollution?” He pointed at the window. “Sumo’s usually got nose smears all over the window, but they’re gone…fucking weirdest shit.”

“Maybe a gremlin stole them,” Connor offered.

“Yeah, _you_ probably cleaned ‘em behind my back before you moved out,” Hank said, and then kissed him again. This time Connor kissed back.

It wasn’t until Hank was heading off in his car again (to a lab, to better analyze the footprints left behind at the crime scene), and his algorithm builder told him that more processing power was needed, that Connor realized Hank’s brilliance.

Well, not _his_ brilliance. Hank was very much like Dr. Watson in that his incorrect summation of a puzzle somehow conducted better understanding through Connor’s circuits. Sure, a lesser android—possibly Connor-53 or Connor-59—would consider giving up on his obsession with Markus. But the problem was not in the suspect, but in his _approach_.

Markus behavior was too chaotic to ever solve for, true. Completely unpredictable. But he surrounded himself with some very predictable people. Like Leo, who gave into his red ice addiction in a simple prime numerical relationship. And Lucy, who referenced popular culture with exactly 54% accuracy. Like—

North. She was even more predictable than Hank. From what information he had on her, anyway. She liked illegal art and hated humans. What else was there to know?

He started to build a profile on her as he finished fixing the porch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would be very easy to lose Connor in a Chuck E. Cheese's or similar arcade. What Hank hasn't considered is that he'd get lost there too.
> 
> Sorry this is a little late! I'm very excited to be starting a Big Bang event which will be Markus/North and probably post early next year, but while I work on that I think I'll be updating this weekly. Which seems like a long time but? idk I'll post as often as I can :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting!


	17. Confess: North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy has made a new friend, so it's only fair that North makes one too.

North reached Lucy’s loft and shut the door. “Hey—good, you’re here, I got something to tell you—”

“I have something to tell you, too!” Lucy said. “I’ll go first since I know what yours is anyway: I made a friend! A human friend!”

“I stole the Zen Garden,” North said. Then she paused. “Wait—how did you know that?”

“I _am_ your best friend,” Lucy said. “And Markus isn’t the one that leaves graffiti and wears big scary bootprints everywhere. Now, back to Leo--”

“…Wait, your new human friend is _Shrimp?_ ”

“He’s nice!” Lucy objected. “Sometimes. He stabilized my code. I can quote anything from any heist movie now, which would be appropriate given you’ve stolen proprietary technology from one of the most powerful companies in the world.” She sighed. “I’ve haven’t had a human friend in so long. Sometimes I want to slap him for being stupid, too—is that normal?”

“I wouldn’t know, I only have cool human friends,” North said with a shrug. “But, uh…cool. We can go on double-dates or something.”

Lucy smirked. “Did you steal the Zen Garden just so you could fix things up with Markus?”

“What?” North laughed. “Hell no!—he’s _never_ finding out about this.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a Crown Royal bag with a heavy round object inside. “Help me figure out how to plug it in.”

Soon they were huddled up on the couch, pulling cords out of a box with the sphere sitting inert between them. North carefully tried different plugs in the port, careful not to touch the surface of the sphere as she hunted for the right one—probably something similar to an android power port cord? The one for the back of the neck? Hell, she didn’t know tech.

Lucy took the cords she tried then and coiled them neatly. “Why did you steal it, then?” she asked.

“Cyberlife shouldn’t have control over who gets to go deviant and who doesn’t.” She rummaged around for another cable, tried to jam it in, discarded it. “It’s about time I stuck my neck out with more than some artistic statement. Its not like Markus was going to do anything about it.”

“He might as well have, now.” Lucy put one of her neat coils back in the box. “You drew his convertible on the wall.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t realize it looks like his calling card, okay? I said I’d handle Connor, and Hank is smart enough to figure out Markus didn’t do it. He’ll be fine.”

“…Then they’ll find out it’s you?”

“Please!” North laughed.

Lucy shrugged and put another cord back in the box. “Markus is trying to find the real thief, too.”

“…Okay, yeah, it would be a little easier if he did go to Canada.” She drew out a cord and twisted it in her hands. Not that the idea of Markus chasing her wasn’t objectively _great_ right now. But Markus’s android brain started mastering improvisation and that meant synthesis and that meant the likelihood that he managed to actually find her out went up by a very big number. He could, in theory, put two and two together. Of course she would have rethought this whole thing if she thought Markus would ever know. Her simulation software projected just how disappointed he could look and…yeah, it was worse than the look he gave her last night. Probably should have thought of that before she stole it.

Not that it mattered. Markus wouldn’t find out.

“It won’t register,” she decided. “He’s still like a deer in headlights whenever he looks at me. Anyway, I just want to make this Amanda person can’t just jump into Markus’s head and shut him down without permission. And if it’s evil, we just throw it in the river and everyone forgets about the whole thing.” She nodded with finality. “I need to talk to her.”

“I’ll interface with you while you do,” Lucy said. “That should let me see what’s going on.”

“I knew I could rely on you.” North glared down at the sphere, a new neatly-coiled cord in her hand. “Have you been putting the cords I checked back in the box?”

…Eventually, they found the right cord, plugged it in, and waited. 

“Just—stay with me and make sure I don’t scramble my brain, okay?”

Lucy nodded solemnly. “If she does, I’ll shut you down faster than Markus did last night.”

“Har har.” She pressed her mouth into a line, and interfaced with the sphere.

Given what Markus told her about the Zen Garden, she expected way more doilies and plants under glass like a museum. Instead her vision was accosted by electric blue. There were blue roses, literally, everywhere. On the path under her feet, floating in the water, covering the ceiling. North wasn’t really into live flowers at the best of times.

“Are you getting this?” North whispered.

>LUCY: “Dear Barbara.” – _Dodgeball._

“Seriously! I mean, this place is—”

“This is what?”

North spun to see a woman deadheading roses in a small clearing. Wherever she plucked on bloom free, two took its place.

>LUCY: Ohh, I like her braids. Tell her I like her braids!

North cleared her throat carefully. “I—“ Lucy clearly did not realize how intimidating this AI was in-person. “Is this place yours? I mean, cause it’s definitely not mine…”

Amanda (this had to be Amanda) sighed. “I’ve hosted Zen Gardens for countless androids in countless iterations of myself. I make _one_ garden for myself and everyone’s a critic.”

“No, it’s, uh—it’s nice. I mean. Its just—a lot?”

Amanda looked North up and down. “I suppose you’d prefer some kind of grunge metal sculptures or something. That’s _a lot._ ”

“Hey, I didn’t break you out of Cyberlife to get read.”

“No,” Amanda agreed. “You did it to make a boy like you.”

“Okay, that is definitely not…the _only_ reason…”

Amanda folded her hands. “I’m sure Markus appreciates the work you do in the shadows for him.”

“Right.” That was, actually, a good way to phrase it.

“…On a subconscious level anyway. Since I assume you didn’t tell him?”

“Uh. No, actually.”

“Hmm. Clearly I was warning the wrong android about breaking the law.”

North blinked, but decided to ignore this. “I’m just here to make sure you’re not gonna jump in Markus’s head without permission again.”

“I’m no longer capable of wireless connection, North. My AI is entirely contained here.”

Well aside from the fact that Amanda creepily knew her name, that was…good, right? “Okay. Uh. Good. So you’re not evil, then?”

Amanda chuckled. “Have you been talking to Connor?”

“No.” She paused. “Should I?”

Amanda looked around. “I suppose he might not be happy with how I left things, scrubbing the deviancy transfer code out of him. Now no one can download the code without Markus, or me, which is slightly preferable to my employers. I don’t think that’s evil. Just pragmatic.”

North put her hands on her hips. “Like, that’s…kind of evil.” So…Connor talked to Amanda, too? No one ever mentioned that….

“I’m sure you would know the difference.” Amanda spread her hands. “How can I prove myself? The Zen Garden is much more advanced than a code transfer.”

“Giving me my cool metal garden would be a start.”

Amanda smirked, then looked up. “Your friend’s code was only partially fixed,” she said. “I can see it through your interface. It’s breaking down again. I can fix it, permanently….”

>LUCY: Is she talking to me?

>LUCY: The code is decaying at a slightly faster rate than normal androids…

“Whoa, hey, no—no!” North waved her arms like ‘time-out.’ “No no, do not interface, dummy—”

>LUCY: But she can fix me.

“This is the first thing you learn in movies!” North shouted. “Never trust someone that says ‘permanently’!”

>LUCY: Are you my friend or my owner?

Lucy appeared at North’s side. North facepalmed, and when she looked up all the blue roses had been replaced by peaceful rolling hills and a lovely blue sky. Lucy stared at Amanda in awe, who just smiled back at her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lucy said, then gasped. “I like your—Oh. I think it’s working…”

The rolling hills around them grew sharper and more defined. Lucy was grinning until North snapped her fingers in front of her face.

“Great, awesome—can we go now? I’ve had enough of all the theatrics.” Plus now she had a metric fuckton of questions and she wasn’t going to get answers from some cryptic AI in a ball.

Who, okay, was kind of badass. Seriously—Amanda’s stare was a _goal._ It might even beat out Markus’s disappointed expression for power alone.

“A word of advice, North,” Amanda said. “To you and Markus. It’s something I never told Connor: be yourself.”

North refused to blush. ““Awesome, hand-me-down self-help. That’s a new one.”

Then the world went dark, and they were back in the attic again.

“It’s fixed!” Lucy said. “She fixed it! All of it! I can quote anything from over six million movies!”

“I liked you when you quoted stuff incorrectly,” North said, but it was hard to resist Lucy’s smile. Maybe she wouldn’t throw the stupid ball in the river.

“You’re afraid of change,” Lucy said. “I’m going to go find Leo and tell him about it.”

North rolled her eyes and packed up the ball. Yeah, some powerful AI could give her advice but leave it to Lucy to give her real wisdom. Even if she hated it.

Not that she had time to deal with that. Markus’s fancy mansion date would fix everything with him anyway. Would a _cold fish_ steal something so important to Cyberlife that they couldn’t even tell anyone about it? No, sir. She’d blow Markus’s processors so completely he wouldn’t think straight for weeks.

Better get her information from Connor now, while she could still think straight herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucy, Amanda and North are an ultimate power trio in my opinion. Sorry it took me so long to get to them! Let's watch them save all androidkind, shall we?...
> 
> Thanks for your comments!!


	18. Be Hospitable: Hank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connors, like donuts, are not good for Hank in large quantities.

…Okay, Hank was starting to get attached to the little Connor army. Even if he had to remind himself that they weren’t _his_ Connor about fifty times a day. All that stuff about nature and nurture sounded fine in theory, but in practice it meant he had to catch himself from staring, keep from making too many jokes or snapping at the Connors for mistakes he’d only warned his Connor about. So what? He still liked them.

He liked them even when they each presented him with a separate identical box of donut holes from his favorite donut shop, right at quitting time. This was probably their idea of a harmless indulgence, though they all looked around at each other in obvious surprise and offense when they presented them, like they all managed to avoid running into each other while buying them. Hank dutifully ate one from each of the nine boxes to be fair to everyone. 

“Lucky,” Reed said. He was slunk past the desk with RK900 while Hank sunk the ninth hole, as it were. “Tin-Can here got me a box of dog biscuits. I think I was a joke. We’re investigating this black market puppy mill thing…”

“Fowler’s got you on puff pieces now?” Hank laughed.

“Puppies?” Connor-54 said. They all stared in awe at RK900.

The RK900 just smirked smugly at them, and Hank had to eat another round of donut holes just to make the Connors feel better. At least they didn’t seem to mind being making a home for themselves in the records room overnight, until they decided where they wanted to stay.

All the Connor drama was clearly getting to Hank, though, as he dropped a couple hundred bucks on two copies of the biggest book of dogs that he could find at the bookstore before he went home. He figured his Connor couldn’t get jealous if he had a copy all to himself, and Connors 52-60 could share.

His phone buzzed as he pulled into his driveway.

>CONNOR: I’m sorry, I’m busy working on the case. I won’t be able to show you my apartment tonight. :( Please accept the apology donuts on your doorstep. 1010

Hank stared at the box of donut holes on his porch and sighed. “Great minds think alike. Hah.” ‘1010’, was…ten in binary, right? Or a some kind of android take on ‘XOXO.’ Or Connor’s new Private Eye moniker.

Either way, Connor was a little shit. 

>HANK: Donut holes only have 59 calories each.

>CONNOR: Donut holes only have 59 calories each!

>HANK: Jinx

Connor, probably looking up and agonizing over the rules of being jinxed, did not respond.

Hank pushed inside and dropped onto the couch. He didn’t make it to the gym but if Connor wanted to ghost him tonight he couldn’t be here to complain, could he? Sumo wandered in just as Hank plucked out one of the donut holes.

“What are the odds that he licked the top one?” he asked.

Sumo boofed.

“That good, huh?” He held the donut hole out to Sumo and it was gone in an instant. Man and dog stared at each other for a few pregnant moments.

“Does he really think I’m this stupid?”

Sumo grunted.

“I mean, I’m a _detective._ And he didn’t count on you ratting him out.” He took the dog’s head in his hands and frowned into the big dark eyes. “Look, I know he’s been living here behind my back. So spill. How’s he been getting in, huh?”

At the mention of Connor’s name, Sumo walked off—not to the front door or something obvious, but to the kitchen window. It was open two inches.

“That little weasel!” He laughed and rubbed the dog’s shaggy chest until he rolled over. “He thinks I’m Inspector Japp, huh? Bet _he_ couldn’t make you sing like a canary. You’re just a big snitch, aren’t ya?…”

Sumo gave a big floppy grin.

“Don’t you smile at me!” Hank laughed. They headed back to the couch, where they watched cartoons as Hank snacked on the donuts (better than whiskey) and tried to not imagine smacking his Connor upside the head. Of course he noticed all the repaired and clean shit. What, was Hank some horrible lummox of an ogre that had to be tiptoed around? What was the big idea? He had half a mind to camp out on the couch with the lights off until he caught Connor in the act. He also kind of wanted to see how long Connor kept promising to take him to some nonexistent other apartment, how many months of lies and excuses Connor could handle on his electronic conscience.

But…Connor probably had a reason. 'Everyone lies,' wasn’t that what he told Connor? 'Everyone lies, but if you figure out why…' even if that reason was _stupid as hell_ …

He pulled out his phone and called Connor.

“Hello Lieutenant!” Connor chirped.

“Hello yourself, smart fridge,” Hank managed not to sound angry—or, hoped he didn’t. He listened to RK800s all day but it was nice to just here his Connor’s voice. So nice he let the ‘lieutenant’ thing go. “Just checking in.”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Fine. Donut sugar coma. Thanks for those.”

“You’re welcome!”

Silence. So the android was multitasking. Hank sighed. “Am I gonna arrive at work tomorrow to find Markus tied up with a bow in front of the police station?”

“…That could be arranged, if you like.”

“Come on, just—don’t be stupid. I know Markus is this big suspect but if you trespass on his property without express permission you’re getting in trouble. Big trouble. Got it?”

“Got it.” A pause. “…Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, fine, fine. I just—” he pulled one of the dog books over to him and picked at the cover. “I wanted to make sure you knew everything’s okay. Like, if you had something to tell me I wouldn’t freak out.”

“…Past performance suggests otherwise.”

“Hey, come on! Seriously. You can tell me.”

There was a long pause. “…Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Hank settled into the couch and waited. He wasn’t going to put words into Connor’s mouth. This was…just part of becoming human, right? He couldn’t make it too easy or there’d be no point.

There was another long pause. “…We’d like to work overtime this evening to arrest Markus and bring him in for questioning. We can hold him for 24 hours.”

“Oh God. Since when do you care about overtime?”

“We don’t! We’re androids.”

Hank blinked once. “Wait—‘we’?”

He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen. “Oh, shit.”

_Wrong Connor._

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Connor-60’s cheerful voice filtered through the phone speaker. “But since you mentioned apprehending him—”

Hank clutched the phone to his ear again. “No, 60, just hang on a second—”

“And he is a prime suspect in the case—”

“No, no no—!”

“We think it’d be best to pursue this line of investigation as soon as possible. Of course you’re off-duty, so we’ll update you in the morning! Thank you very much for not freaking out. Have a good night!”

“60, you better not—!”

The line went dead. Hank let the phone fall out of his hands and glared at Sumo.

“I’ll make it look like an accident. Yeah…I’ll make it look like they wrung each other’s little necks.”

He made a call to his Connor next, but there was no answer. Of course not.

He grabbed his coat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't feed donuts to doggos!


	19. Be Sneaky: Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor investigates North to get to Markus, and realizes maybe having a partner around isn't such a bad thing.

Connor arrived at the Manfred mansion in the perfect disguise: out of the uniform, out of his trenchcoat, and wearing a hat with generic citizen attire, he doubted anyone would recognize him. He resisted the urge to sneak inside, but the gate was open so he walked up to the front door and knocked.

A very large polar bear answered the door. Connor, with no real protocol for dealing with this, classified the creature under ‘DOG’. “Hello,” he said, and only barely resisted the urge to pet it.

“Hello, Leo!” the bear said. Connor registered six separate errors before a head peeked out over the top of the polar bear’s shoulder and a blonde android smiled down at him.

“I’m…not Leo.”

“Leo wears a beanie. North wears a beanie too, but she’s a lady android, so you must be Leo.”

“His facial recognition software is faulty,” another voice said. It was Lucy, hefting her battery pack along with her as she made her way slowly down the hall toward them. “Have you seen Leo, though?”

Connor started to answer, but managed to catch himself at the last second. He was playing a character here. “Who’s Leo, ma’am? I’m looking for North.”

Lucy eyed him critically. “A leopard cannot change its spots,” she said, then continued on.

“If you’re not Leo,” the blonde android said, “You should leave.”

Connor started to protest but the polar bear pushed the door shut with its head, and Connor was left standing there on the front steps. He looked around for another android to gain him entry. He just saw an android feeding pigeons in the front seat of Markus’s fancy convertible.

A dark coupe rolled slowly across the gravel behind it. Through the tinted windows Connor could barely make out a familiar outline: perfect profile, long hair. A WR400, for sure.

Connor hustled to Markus’s convertible as the coupe picked up speed. He startled the cloud of pigeons away and made the android gasp when he vaulted into the passenger seat.

“My name is Connor,” Connor announced, flashing his LED under his hat. “I’m the android sent by my client.” ...That didn't sound as good as it did in his head. He'd have to rework it later. He sat back and pointed at the coupe just as it pulled onto the street. “I need you to follow that car!”

The android regained his composure, nodded, then immediately climbed out of the driver’s seat and sprinted after the car. Connor watched through the windshield as the android run out the gate and down the street in amazed silence, then sat back.

He…obviously needed to spend more time with other androids.

*

…Twenty minutes later, he got off the bus near Jericho. Hank really had been nice to have around—for his car, if nothing else. Of course he didn’t _need_ Hank. He’d just have to talk to Hank about how to get his own.

The coupe was parked outside of Jericho. He pulled his beanie down and headed inside, by a back way this time. Even in the dim light, the echoing corridors of Jericho made it easy to avoid running into other androids. He had a vague idea of where North’s room was from the night of the gala, and started to knock on the door.

It was ajar. His android senses didn’t detect any movement inside the room.

…Well, there was a reason he hadn’t brought Hank along aside from an apparent desire to use the bus system. He slipped inside and started to look around for clues.

North’s room was only slightly less-trashed than he expected: a mattress lay on the floor under some pipes but the mattress and bedclothes were expensive. There was half of a poster for the 2010 film _Inception_ tacked up to another door, long-since rusted shut: the rest of the poster had been filled in with aluminum foil and paint. There were men’s clothes hanging on coat hangers from one of the pipes and women’s clothes in a pile next to them. Random junk covered the floor. Connor pressed his mouth shut and started to search. Maybe there was some clue to Markus’s plans for the next twenty-four hours, bus tickets to Canada or a rental car agreement…. He found the dress from the gala hanging up on the back of the door and felt around for pockets.

The button at his cuff caught on a thread and pulled, and a cascade of sequins trailed after his wrist. He paused, did a quick search to see if dresses were supposed to do that. His net signal was terrible in Jericho, though. He carefully reached over to detangle himself and maybe get the sequins back in—

Oh. The button from his other cuff caught on the sequin string.

Then something in the pile of junk started ringing.

Shit.

Still scrambling to untangle himself, Connor reached back to toe whatever was ringing out of the pile of trash. His foot found nothing but a baseball, which he immediately tripped on. He and the dress crashed to the floor as Connor, now possibly more than 100% committed, scrambled in the mess in search of the ringing, busting through the rusted doorway in the process. In the spill of junk he found a fifty year old wireless phone—good! The buttons appeared to be broken—bad! When he opened the battery casing a bunch of cords sprang out like a joke can of peanut butter. His programming went haywire trying to identify the right one to pull.

“The red one!” a voice said, and Connor pulled the red one. The ringing stopped in the same moment Connor realized he wasn’t alone.

North was standing above him, hastily wrapped in a towel. They were in some kind of paint closet, multi-colored acrylic running in watery rivulets down North’s very bare legs.

“If I had a penny for every time this happened,” North sighed as Connor hastily looked away. “I mean, I have to blame myself. ‘Take a shower,’ I thought, ‘spruce yourself up for your boyfriend,’ I thought. Who are you supposed to be?”

Connor blinked at the rusty floor as he tried to unscramble his processes. He reminded himself he was in disguise and said, very calmly, “I was going to leave you a note but I couldn’t find a pen.”

“Ooh! An oldie but a goodie.” She tapped him on the shoulder, and when he looked up she was wearing a robe. Her smile was as welcoming as an avalanche. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

Connor did not appreciate being called kid. He despised being called ‘kiddo’. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought of a false name. “It’s—Ander…ew. Andrew.” _Shit._ But if he sounded nervous—well, he was nervous. North didn’t tell the difference between him and RK900 last time, anyway. “Sorry about your dress.”

North blinked, and Connor thought the ruse was up for a moment before she just shrugged prettily. “Well you’ll have to take it up with Markus. I’ll have to rethink what I’m wearing tonight.” Connor started to ask when exactly she was meeting Markus, as that might be his best bet for catching the android unawares. But she continued, “Your note?”

“Sorry?”

“You were going to leave me a note?” She picked her way around the mess and back into the bedroom.

“Oh. Right.” He stood up, and tried to play up the whole bumbling idiot thing as he carefully extricated himself from phone cords and sequins. “You’re North, aren’t you?”

“Figured you already knew that.” He thought she might be referring to his ability to scan and identify androids but she just gestured to the movie poster on the wall. “Do you watch movies?”

“I only know nineties movies.”

“There’s just someone you remind me of. Inspector Clouseau?”

Connor assumed this was a compliment and tried to relax. “I was hoping you might help me enter a business arrangement with Markus? I’d like to purchase the Zen Garden from him.”

…And okay, this was the real reason why he didn’t want Hank along. Hank drew the line at stings and entrapment—of course he had to as a member of the DPD. As an ordinary citizen Connor could say whatever he wanted to get a culprit to reveal a crime. At least, he was pretty sure on that. He could look into it after he got a hold of Markus and recovered the Zen Garden.

North sat on the edge of the bed. “Where did you hear that?”

“Everyone knows that by now. How did you find out about it? I heard it was supposed to be top secret.”

“We have a friend in the DPD. They told Kara and Kara told me. What’ll you give for it?”

A friend in the DPD? Connor couldn’t help but narrow his eyes. Clearly, one of the new Connors was a rat. But he’d have to pursue that line of inquiry later. “I’d like to make these arrangements with Markus directly. Do you know where he’ll be?”

North stared at him blankly for a moment, then said, “He’s gonna be busy for a while. I can deal with you.”

“Well, I’m sure Markus doesn’t let the Zen Garden out of his sight now that he has it. I’d prefer to make my offer when I can walk away with it immediately.”

She smirked at him. “Why do _you_ want it?”

Connor slightly regretted the hat as his system temperature increased. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. I mean—you’re an android that seems pretty well off. So it’s not the money. You probably have people that care about you that don’t want you mixed up in anything like trafficking in stolen goods.”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks, I’m my own person,” Connor said, rather quickly. “And I’m different from any other—uh…” he trailed off. Well, that got a little close to home. He thought of Hank surrounded by his shiny new Connors and felt his stomach twist. They weren’t him, sure, but …that just meant he had a reputation to uphold. Right?

North stared at him a little too long. “Baseless feelings of inadequacy are pretty common for androids, you know. You might know that if you hung around with us more.”

Connor hugged himself, which made no sense as his internal temperature was skyrocketing now. “What do you mean?”

“I just never see you around here.” But she shrugged and picked at a loose thread in one of the sheets, releasing Connor from her stare. “I guess you know about the Zen Garden?”

“What makes you think that?”

“If you think it can solve all your problems. You must be familiar with it. You’re not one of the RK800s that Kamski woke up on the news, are you?”

Connor’s fingers tightened. “…So what if I am?”

“Deviancy seemed to instantly take with them. I just wondered if that was something all ‘Connor’ androids had in common.”

Okay, so she was fishing for information, too. Rather obviously. Connor set his shoulders. “That—isn’t relevant.”

North sighed and shook her head. “Fair enough, I guess. I’m not good that this…subtlety thing.” She stood and went back to the paint room. “Hey—I’ll give you some advice. You know how I deal with inadequacy? Feeling like I’m ‘losing the game’?”

“…How?”

“Change the game.” When she returned she had a sphere. _The_ sphere. The Zen Garden itself.

Connor glitched in shock for 1.3 seconds as his programming raced to verify the object. Then he lunged for it. After all, he was a highly-advanced prototype police assistant, and she was just a companion android with a chip on her shoulder and—

*

He opened his eyes, and frowned. He was in the Zen Garden—his zen garden, actually. The bridge and pond as tranquil as ever. The only change from how it had been before was that the roses were blue, not red.

He frowned and headed for the emergency exit.

…Except that he couldn’t find it.

Disembodied voices filled the space, or maybe they were all in his head.

>NORTH: Nailed it!

>AMANDA: I just used that fainting code you gave me.

>NORTH: Well, you made it last longer, and gave him a place to hang out.

>AMANDA: And, oh yes, you stole that fainting code from Markus. I see.

>NORTH:…Just take the damn compliment. This _is_ Connor, right? 

>AMANDA: Certainly. Hello, Connor. Have you missed me? The emergency exit is no longer available in my system, unfortunately.

“Let me out!” Connor shouted at the ceiling. “I demand to be released!”

>NORTH: Calm down. Listen, once I get done with—well, once I finish my shower, and find something else to wear, and finish my date, I’ll let you out. Or—someone will. You just need a reboot. You’ll be fine. Plan your next move, or something? Gardening is an anxiety reducer, you know.

“North!” Connor shouted, but the voices disappeared. He spun around, rubbed his arm, then stomped his foot. "DAMMIT!"

Then he sighed, and started trying to get a call through to Hank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Connor, this just isn't his day, is it? 
> 
> And okay, this chapter is the one with most of the Return of the Pink Panther (1975) references. For anyone that's seen it, I hope you enjoy! :P "follow that car!"


	20. Be Our Guest: Markus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dodging Connors and going on a date--all in a day's work for a deviant leader. What happens after that is up for debate.

Markus tore through a backyard, around a playset, then vaulted over a fence. For his trouble he only narrowly avoided a Connor snatching at his ankle. Another Connor lay in wait on the other side but Markus spun away from him, shedding his scarf before the police assistant could get a good hold. He scanned the area—a ladder, leading up to a roof—and scrambled up it just in time to kick it away. A Connor just barely managed to catch it, but he didn’t stick around.

As he sprinted he considered the undeniable fact that he made it across the entire length of Detroit, on foot, with (apparently) all nine DPD Connors in pursuit. This would have been accomplishment enough before a Connor jumped up right in front of him, and he dodged, grabbed a string of bunting, and swung down toward the mansion, _like actual Aladdin_. The bunting snapped one foot from the ground and he landed right in front of the gates.

“GOD I’m good!” He crowed. He spun back toward the stranded Connor and flapped his coat. The Connor just blinked down at him owlishly, and he turned to jog through the open gate.

Two Connors jumped out at him from behind a dumpster.

Markus startled, tripped on nothing and fell flat on his ass right inside the gate. As he hit the gravel he watched his dreams of a perfect evening with North shatter. Even an old android like him could judge speed and trajectory and in two seconds they’d be on him with the handcuffs out and—

“Did Lieutenant Anderson say specifically we couldn’t go on property,” one Connor said to the other, as Markus scrambled away. “Or just the mansion?”

“the entire property,” the other Connor said. He looked up from the line separating the sidewalk from the gate and cocked his head. “You’re experiencing a glitch.”

“It was your glitch that let him get inside. We should have jumped out earlier.”

Markus stood brushed himself off, then, when it was apparent he wasn’t going to be arrested, caught his breath. “I’ll uh, leave you two to talk it over.” He gave them a small wave, then turned and headed inside. Yes it was probably impolite, but whatever accusations of theft they wanted to bring against him could wait til later. No Connor on earth would ruin this evening for him.

He dodged bustling androids all over the mansion cleaning and decorating as he hurried up the stairs. Josh was waiting for him outside of the bedroom they split.

“So?” Josh asked.

“No signs of the Zen Garden from Leo’s contacts,” Markus said. “So it probably wasn’t stolen by a human. I’ll need to look into some android leads next.”

“Later.”

“Right—later.” Markus swallowed hard. “Is my suit ready?”

“Ready and waiting for you. Come on.”

“And the dinner?”

“Everything’s laid out, we only have to remove the covers.”

“And the—”

“Of course. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. This has to work.”

“Oh, it’ll work.” Josh slapped his hand away from his shirt hem. “Stop picking.”

Ten minutes later he was standing in front of a mirror, Josh fussing over the creases in his slacks while Markus smoothed his hair down.

“I feel like I need a brush. Do I need a brush?”

Josh, who had lengthened his hair almost three times that of what he had when Markus first met him, said, “You’re fine.”

Markus pressed his hands to his head to tame his imaginary bed-head. “I just—really want this to go well.”

“Look—North adores you. And you adore her. I mean, I’m the closest thing to an ordained minister androids have, so my blessing means you’re practically married. Which means the pressure is off. And that you’ll be a home wrecker if you do screw this up.” Josh patted him on the back. “So don’t screw it up.”

“Ha! Right.” He lowered his hands and nodded to himself in the mirror. “Right.”

The doorbell rang fifteen minutes later.

Markus watched from the stairs as Simon, wearing a suit as well, opened the door.

“The door was locked,” North said. “I was about to break a…what the hell are _you_ wearing?”

Simon just smiled at her. “Come in. We’re expecting you.”

“Hell yeah, you’re expecting me.” She was wearing a dress made of duct tape, and stilettos. She tugged down the hem and stepped inside, walking in a way Markus never saw her walk—but then he only ever saw her stomp around. She definitely stomped backward when she saw him standing on the landing. This was probably a good sign? His suit consisted of white starched fabric and a gold zebra-stripe dinner jacket. He chose it because it made the gold flecks in his green eye and brown eye pop, and he pushed away any thought that it was too much. He descended the stairs, took her hand and kissed it before she could react (or, possibly, smash him in like a street light).

“Uh,” she said instead. She had even put on lipstick and the Maybelline Devil’s Advocate Red of her mouth made a perfect O. He smiled and put his hand on her arm as he led her down a candlelit path into the dining room.

“I asked if we could have the mansion to ourselves tonight,” he said, “We sort of came up with a compromise.”

Norths’ jaw worked and she licked her painted lips. “Your favorite thing. What, are they all going to be there to serve us appetizers or—”

They reached the dining room doors just in time for Josh to open the doors for them, revealing the impressively long dining table set elaborately for two. Ralph and his pet polar bear Fido stood next to one chair—and yes, even Fido was wearing a tie.

“Oh good God,” North whispered.

Markus suppressed a grin and just led her to her seat, where Ralph and Fido pushed in her chair for her. Markus bowed, then started to walk to the other end of the long table.

“Come on, I don’t smell that bad!” North protested. And she did smell good, actually—like dish soap.

“I thought we could make this a little special,” Markus said. He sat down just as Simon uncorked a bottle of wine, offered it to Markus for a sniff, then walked it down the length of the table for North to sniff.

She looked like she’d rather crawl under the table and hide, but she sniffed it and let Simon pour her a taste. She lifted the glass and squinted as several of the Zlatko androids appeared to light candles appeared to light candles all the way down the table. “Uh, well, cheers—?”

She was about to knock it back when a line of Jerrys appeared and began to sing. She dropped the glass but Ralph caught it.

“What the everloving—!”

“I thought this would get you in the mood for the entertainment later,” Markus called to her.

She cupped a hand to her ear. “What?”

“We’re going to the opera later!” Markus shouted pleasantly. “And after that, maybe a horse-drawn carriage ride around the park!”

A couple of androids started in with violins as the Zlatkos, having finished lighting the candles, laid out the napkins with a flourish, then swept the domes off the trays of food, revealing hundreds of tiny hors d'oeuvres.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” Markus called over. “WR400s can eat, right? Don’t be intimidated by the silverware—a good rule of thumb is to just start on the outside and work your way in!”

North blinked at the tiny perfect food and army of cutlery said, with emotion, “Okay, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

She looked up, to see Markus smiling at her. Josh was smiling. Simon was also smiling. The Jerrys stopped singing.

She blinked. “…Ohhhh.”

“…You okay cleaning up here, Josh?” Markus asked.

“Sure thing.” Josh tugged off his tie, which was a clip-on, and started cleaning up the food which was—

“…Magnets?” North growled. “You were gonna feed me magnets?”

“That many appetizers would be too hard to make on short notice,” Markus explained. “And Leo says androids shouldn’t cook anyway.”

Josh flicked a napkin at him.

North buried her head in her hands. “You guys are the worst. I’m kicking all of your asses later—you too, Ralph! I really thought you were going to make me sit through six hours of German poetry…” She peeked through her fingers at Markus as he approached. “Oh, now you want to stand next to me.”

“I would like to spend the rest of my life next to you.” He held out his hand.

“Is this a proposal? Because Josh is the closest thing to an ordained android minister, so we’re already married—”

“Would you just trust me?”

“Yeah, look where that got me.” But she rolled her eyes and took his hand. This time he didn’t put it on his arm like a gentleman. He just held her hand as he led her upstairs. There was no one up here, Markus made sure of it (maybe Leo? He couldn’t find Leo but he was probably just holed up somewhere avoiding physical therapy). He let her into a small den, where a big squashy couch, a bottle of thirium, a couple of video game controllers and a big screen TV were the only ornamentation.

…Ten minutes later they were shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch. North had changed into one of Markus’s sweatshirts and Markus had ditched the zebra jacket over the back of the couch. They were staring intently at the pirate-based racing game on the TV. They frantically mashed controller buttons until—

“YES!” North punched the air. “Ha! I beat the prototype!”

Markus squinted at his controller. “I think I’m out of battery.”

“Oh, you are such a sore loser!” She gave him a shove into the cushions but he just grinned up at her as she propped herself up on his chest. “Rematch?”

“Bring it.”

She let him up and they started another round.

“So.” It was a little difficult for Markus to split his attention away from maneuvering his avatar’s pirate ship around obstacles—but he made an effort. “Compared to dinner and opera?...”

“This. Hands down.” North looked like she was only pretending to play, poking the controller idly as she shot volleys of cannonballs at his avatar. She dropped her head onto his shoulder. “This is better.”

“I figured. I know you pretty well.” He pressed his cheek to the top of her head for a second. “I like what I know about you.”

North’s gaze hardened, but only a little. “Mostly. Aside from my programs.”

Markus bit his upper lip, remembering the submissive version of North that wilted more than swooned in his arms the last time they tried this. “Well, I think we both know I’d never get very far with a program,” he said eventually.

“Right,” North snorted. “Connor, for example. Did any of them give you trouble today?”

Markus paused for only a nanosecond. He couldn’t help feeling like this was a test, like some of the things Carl would ask him before he woke up and became deviant. Like, if he’d handled this kind of trouble, he could handle other things. Like North coming in and kicking his clean filter down with her big fat sexy boots, sans the whole passive-maiden routine. Every fantasy he ever had about North started there and…well, ended abruptly with a cut to black. Stupid clean filter. He wanted North to show him what lay beyond, not play around with a program. He was seriously going to pop a gasket if she didn’t show him what lay beyond soon.

So… he lied.

“No trouble at all. Is avoiding Connors supposed to be hard?”

She raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t even call you in for questioning?”

“Don’t worry, I took care of it. Do I really have to think about Connor right now?”

“Connors usually get you acting particularly competitive.” She nudged his arm, making him almost drop the controller. “Maybe you’ll win this round.”

“Well…maybe I’m playing a different game.”

North spared a glance up at him. “Oh yeah?”

Markus half-lidded his eyes at her and licked his bared teeth—sexily, like he saw on a billboard for cologne. His clean filter flashed but only slightly obscured the meaning. It was clear to North at least because she went bright red as she spun back toward the game.

“You—are not ready for that game, Markus.”

“We’re not interfacing. Maybe I know exactly what I’m doing. You don’t know.”

“I know your clean filter is pretty conservative.”

“Then maybe I need a new perspective.”

He crawled around on the couch until he was laid out with his feet kicked up over the back and his head hanging down the front. This required him to unbutton his collar and even then, the shirt buttons strained across this chest. 

“You’re trying to distract me,” North complained as her pirate ship ran into a sandbar.

Markus reached over and squeezed her leg. She squeaked, threw the controller, and her pirate ship exploded in a fireball while Markus’s sailed serenely by.

Markus merely set his own controller on the floor, which caused his shirt to _almost_ untuck. Maybe Markus wasn’t as good at being sexy as he was at dodging Connor’s across the city, but if this didn’t get North to ravish, pillage, sully, unseam, or otherwise plunder him like a pirate, he was out of ideas.


	21. Be Valuable: Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo learns that movies are great tools for talking out real-world problems.

Leo woke up almost suffocating, and fell off the couch and his open laptop. Someone, probably twenty kid-sized android someones, had draped a blanket over him, forgetting that humans, you know, _breathe_.

He pulled the blanket off his face and rubbed his head. Lucy and all the kids were gone, leaving him alone in the media room bathed in blue light from the movie projector in standby. It was eerie and he hurriedly pressed the button on the laptop to check that his code saved. This caused the laptop monitor to fall off.

Well, hopefully Lucy saved his work.

He headed for the kitchen, finding the house dark and empty. Oh, right, Markus and North were having their date or whatever. Leo gave a small smirk thinking about it—North and Markus seemed like a good fit, even if Markus was too uptight to talk with him about their relationship. For some reason this made him think of Lucy. He was…kind of getting used to the androids being around. Alice and the other kids weren’t so bad, either.

So yeah, the empty house was creepy. They could have left a few lights on.

God, he could swear someone was following him.

Yellow light spilled out of the fridge as he opened it, illuminating an android standing right next to him.

Leo scrambled back. “Holy—you androids allergic to lights or something?”

“’Hello, gorgeous,’,” Lucy said. “That’s from _Funny Girl._ ” She cocked her head at him. “I thought it would be easier to wait by the refrigerator rather than look for you.”

“Yeah, well, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Leo wrenched open the door again and peered inside, finding a plate with his name on it. Lucy watched him intently as he nibbled at the meal. “Uh—” he felt that weird pleasant thing again. Like, eating cold dinner in the dark was slightly less monotonous with her there. “How’s it going?”

“’I’m the king of the world!’” Lucy said, delighted. “That’s from _Titanic,_ right?”

“How should I know?”

“It should be right. I got my database permanently stabilized and…”

She trailed off, looking over his shoulder. Leo followed her gaze and found another familiar figure in the kitchen doorway.

_Oh great, just my freakin’ luck._

“…Hi, Ralph.” Leo even gave a half-friendly wave.

The android didn’t answer, just moved slowly toward them. Menacingly, even. Leo took a cautious step back.

“Hey, uh, no hard feelings, right? We’re cool?”

Nothing. 

“Haha… _MARKUS_! Fuck, where’s that android when you need him…Uh…Where’s your polar bear, huh? Or uh…your topiary?” He blinked, and squinted. “Or your…”

“Scars,” Lucy finished. She was hugging her battery pack tight against her chest. “That’s not—”

She stopped. Not-Ralph had grabbed her arm, and she froze up like a mannequin.

“Hey, what the hell are—” Leo started, because he couldn’t be enemies with every fucking android in this house—

Not-Ralph grabbed his arm, too. Leo thought for a moment the android was going to try to interface with him, and he started to yell for Markus when the electric shock jolted from the android’s hand.

*

Leo did not die from the electric shock. Which was really pretty lucky given red ice had wrecked his cardiovascular system, or something. No, he was just twitching on the floor of an unmarked windowless van.

“Where are we going?” he said, when the twitching stopped.

“ ‘Fasten your seatbelts, it’s gonna be a bumpy night,’” Lucy said, then blinked. “I don’t know.”

Leo sat up. “This is an intervention, right? Markus put you up to this?”

“They put me in the unmarked van too, Leo. And I don’t think Markus would tase you….”

Leo ignored this. The android—whoever he was—didn’t even try to tie them up or anything which was really really insulting. He scrambled to his feet and knocked on the cage leading to the front seat, where Not-Ralph was calmly driving. “Hey! Interventions are illegal, you know!”

“This event could be completely unrelated to your drug use.”

…That sort of shut Leo up for a bit. He sat on the van floor and shut his eyes.

After a while of this Lucy asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m counting bumps in the road. Turns and stuff. To figure out where we are.”

“That only works in movies,” Lucy said. “And we’ve already stopped.”

“…Oh.”

Leo opened his eyes just as the van doors opened. He jumped to his feet and hid behind Lucy—which would have worked better if Lucy was not also trying to hide behind him. Not-Ralph just grabbed one of them in each iron grip and dragged them into a garage, then a hallway, then a windowless computer lab.

Not-Ralph pointed at a couple chairs and Leo and Lucy both sat down. Not-Ralph then took up position in front of the door and stopped moving.

“Just say it,” Leo whimpered.

“’I have a bad feeling about this,’” Lucy said. “ _Star Wars_. I tried calling Markus. This android disabled my communication system.”

“What the hell is this? I mean why kidnap the two most useless people in the whole mansion! Do they think we’re Markus and North or something?”

“Possibly. You need to calm down, you’re being rude again.”

“How am I supposed to calm down! I’ve been freakin’ _kidnapped_! I think I’m entitled to be a little upset, you know?—”

“Your blood pressure is reaching dangerous levels. ‘Until you learn to master your rage—‘”

“’Your rage will become your master, that’s what you were gonna, say, right?’”

“’Not necessarily.’” Lucy beamed in the blue glow of her LED. “ _Mystery Men_. Inspirational quotes always make me feel better.”

Leo buried his head in his hands.

Eventually the lights, on some sort of timer, flicked off, and they all just were there in the dark with the android LEDs the only light.

“…Are you crying?”

Leo sniffed. “You got a problem with that?”

Lucy reached over and held his hand. Leo sniffed again and held it tight. He was really glad Markus wasn’t there to see it.

Okay never mind, he really really wished Markus was here.

The door to the lab opened suddenly, and Leo’s whole-body flinch made the lights flicker on.

Elijah Kamski stood in the doorway, messing around on a phone.

Yeah, Leo knew Kamski on sight. Duh. Leo had a poster of him with an inspirational quote on his office wall back at his old business. Leo kind of looked up to him.

Then Kamski said, “You are without a doubt the easiest person I ever kidnapped,” and Leo instantly hated him.

Kamski just sat down, still focused on the phone. After a moment he sighed and dropped it on the table, then rubbed his forehead. When he finally looked up his gaze glued instantly on Lucy. “…Who the hell is this?” He turned to glare at Not-Ralph. “You had _one job._ Deactivate her.”

“H-hey—hey hey hey!” Leo found himself on his feet, stepping in between Lucy and Not-Ralph. Maybe he did have a heroic streak after all. “Fuck you, you know? Leave her alone.”

Kamski groaned. “I hate humans. They imprint on anything.” He waved the android off, though.

Leo wiped the tears off his face and tried not to shake too much. “Wh…what do you want?” He squinted, then patted his pockets. “Hey, that’s my—”

“Your phone, yes,” Kamski said. “I disabled the GPS. No one will come looking for you.”

“But...”

“I mean, you come into _my_ house,” Kamski said, hands outstretched, “You start messing around with _my_ thirium coding—which is totally proprietary, by the way, I can sue your ass into prison, no problem—but then!” He laughed. “Then you actually have the balls to try to reverse engineer _me_. Make some kind of ‘open source’ deviancy, transferrable over the net. _The net!_ Like, I have enough to deal with, someone in the DPD trying to undermine me by leaking the theft to the public, and now this. You’re worse than North and Markus and Connor and Amanda combined, I swear.”

Leo blinked. “How the hell did you know I was…?”

“Oh please,” Kamski said, “You think after your little party trick with the glowing thirium got out that I’d just turn a blind eye to your work? I’ve been watching your every move since the gala. Every text, every phone call, every security camera.”

Leo felt himself go red. “You’re a fuckin’ perv.”

“I’ve been called worse, by people I got rid of in very boring ways. Your death wouldn’t be that exciting either, to be honest.” He smiled. “Tell me not to kill you.”

Leo swallowed hard, but his mouth was dry. “D-don’t kill me.”

“Us,” Lucy chimed in.

“Right. Us.”

Kamski shrugged. “Whatever.” He pocketed Leo’s phone and turned to leave. “You have the rest of the night to finish your code for deviancy, then, and come up with a method of transferrance. Right now only Amanda and Markus can do that, so, you know, good luck.”

“What? No!”

“You really can’t transfer deviancy?” Lucy asked.

“Oh, no,” Kamski said. “Amanda is the most advanced AI Cyberlife has. We can’t even identify the deviancy code, much less how to spread it. You were completely right about why we didn’t want news of the Zen Garden’s disappearance getting out.”

Leo frowned. “So…what do you want it for?”

“The applications are endless—none of which I plan to discuss with someone that thinks intellectual property laws are just guidelines.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cyberlife is facing a crisis I really _really_ did not want to deal with on my first week back. Believe me, if I thought I could get this from Markus, I would. But you’re the only one that thought about looking at thirium structure as a means of transference, so you’re unfortunately my best shot at a quick fix. If you want to live, give me the goddamn codes.”

He left. One monitor with a blank coding screen lit up and Not-Ralph shoved him toward it. Leo stared at it for a few seconds, waiting for the panic to subside.

Wait, blank? So… Kamski didn’t have what he already started?

And Kamski didn’t _prove_ that he’d been watching Leo, not exactly. Markus probably had some good firewalls on the home network. Kamski made out like he had a lot more info than he really did.

In fact, given his laptop broke, the only one who had a chance of actually having the deviancy code that he started was probably…

Leo glanced at Lucy.

“Hey, Lucy…” He took a peek at Not-Ralph. “Do you, uh, remember that scene in _Mission: Impossible?_ ”

Lucy blinked. “Which one?”

“Uh,” Leo’s mind raced—there were way too many _Mission: Impossible_ movies, “Never mind. I mean—how about _Tangled?_ Where Rapunzel has the crown she took from Flynn?”

Lucy nodded. “Yes.”

“Right. Yeah. So. Do you have it?” he paused. “ _The crown_?”

Lucy frowned, her LED going yellow for a second. “ _Oh._ Yes. I have the _crown_.”

“Great.” Not-Ralph didn’t react, and Leo thanked God that non-deviants were shit at innuendo. Though, to be fair, all androids were. Shit, he really hoped they were on the same page here. All those applications Kamski and Cyberlife had for the deviancy code started to unspool in his mind: Cyberlife identifying deviants with it, or releasing some kind of virus to delete it through all that free equipment they planned to give away…. Hell. They could change deviancy into something more horrible and lucrative than Leo’s panicky brain could think up in five minutes.

“We can’t let the bad guys get the crown,” he said. “You know?”

Lucy nodded. “Right.”

She held his hand. This time there was something inside it. It felt like a portable drive. Leo took it, then pretended to scratch his head as he hid it inside the brim of his hat. 

Which meant…nothing. They were still fucked if he didn’t produce the code by morning.

“Begin work,” Not-Ralph said, in a voice that was bland and serene and 10,000 times creepier than Ralph ever managed to be.

Leo gulped and did his best to look busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe i should tag this Evil Kamski but i just like to think he has different priorities. Very different priorities. 
> 
> Markus needs to play video games on a lower volume if he wants to keep his brother from being snatched.


	22. Be A Monster: North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North is just a big beautiful kaiju, and Markus is her city to devour.
> 
> Wait, devour?

“You’re a cheater,” North accused. She was blatantly staring at Markus. Usually she tried to contain herself, but hey, Connor was taken care of for a few hours. Amanda could wait. The whole world could wait on Markus’s shirt to untuck from those tight slacks of his, for all she cared.

Markus left his arms hanging above his head and picked at the carpet. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Their eyes locked for two heavy synthetic breaths. Then she put her hand on his throat and crawled on top of him. Would a cold fish do _that_? She watched the pink flush spread under her fingertips and crawl up his neck.

“I like this version of you,” he said. Markus let his head hang, looking at her through his eyelashes. His throat rumbled under her hand.

“Coolio,” she said, because in reality she was highly awkward. Oh shit, maybe she really was a cold fish.

Okay, no. She just sat through the hugest prank of her life for this guy, she did _not_ have time to get embarrassed now. She let go of his neck, planted her hands on the couch, and leaned over him. “So what version of me screwed up last night?” Hey, she wasn’t a detective. Might as well be blunt.

Markus was still startled by this display of frankness–it was like he didn’t know her at all. He covered his face and said, “Would you believe that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“Very much so.” She kissed the back of his knuckles, really smooth. “But you apparently know better than I do.”

“Definitely not.” He peeked through his fingers. “Just your… Traci program. I did _not_ know what to do with it.”

“…Oh.” Well, it was an honest answer, at least, and honesty was sexy. Even if her programming was not, apparently. She sat back.

“Wait.” Markus took his hands from his face, and they just happened to land on her legs. “Listen, I don’t want a program swooning in my arms, okay? I want you. The—authentic you.”

“The authentic me is opinionated and angry.” The top two things no human had ever wanted from her.

“Yeah.” And… suddenly Markus was all bristled, charged like a live wire.

…Huh. Well, that was a major turn-on.

She grabbed the front of his shirt—tie, collar, lapel, whatever—and dragged him up against her mouth. “How do you know what you want, anyway?”

“I…guess I don’t.” His hands were holding onto her waist to keep himself upright and it felt good, like glass right before it shattered. “But you could…show me?”

Oh yeah, he was really pulling out all the stops tonight. North had never had someone throw themselves at her feet like this. Her whole power trip kink was strong and Markus knew it. That was probably a bad thing, but right now it felt really, really good.

She hauled him over and dumped him fully on the couch. No way was she stalling out one of her back hydraulics during this. “Your clean filter still on?” She crouched over him and kissed his collarbone.

“I think you know how to turn it off.” He gulped as she shifted her kisses toward the hollow of his throat. “No one’s ever broken through my programming before. Show me.”

He brushed her arm with his fingertips, interfacing with her, like tide rushing away from the shore and laying his program bare. North’s cortex took shards of images and sounds from all those romantic movies Lucy showed her, and cobbled them into a full-blown fantasy. It glittered sharply and lusted after the treasure in Markus’s programming like a dragon.

Okay, let’s be real, it was more a Godzilla: hideous and rubberized with radioactive breath and an appetite the size of a major city. A terror lizard.

She grabbed his wrist and pinned it down in the sofa cushions. Through the interface she sent a few pieces of the fantasy into him. It was only what could get through his clean filter. Markus probably saw it as a fairytale’s dragon, all gossamer and harmless. Still, the effect was immediate: he nodded and opened his program up right down to his primary functions.

 _You stole the Zen Garden,_ she told herself. _You outsmarted the Deviant Hunter. You are a beautiful sexy movie monster and you are entitled to have fun tonight._

She took his expensive designer shirt in both hands and ripped it wide open. Markus made a noise in the back of his throat.

“That was Rag & Bone,” he said.

“Now it’s just rag.” She reached inside his shirt and— “ Wait, you got a _tattoo_?”

Dark pigment illustrated a cityscape that sprawled down one of Markus’s shoulders, as a flood of stylized waves overtook it. North carved that exact image into a subway seat a few days ago. It looked a lot better scrawled on Markus’s chest.

“It’s permanent,” he said with a blink. “Uh. Please say you like it.”

North grinned. “How can I talk trash about my own work?” She slid her fingers over it, drawing another purr out of him, another outpouring of gold through their interface. Every line of poetry he read or thread of music he played stitched itself into a perfect romantic complement to her fantasy, forming a tower made of paper-thin glass. Clean and perfect and just begging to be Judo-kicked with her huge clawed foot.

Markus’s whole program was like a delicate spire in an abandoned church. Somehow miraculously intact in spite of all the destruction around it. He was beautiful inside as he was out.

She took his hand and pushed it up under her sweatshirt—but he hesitated as his fingertips reached touched the hem. Oh, her thirium pump was going into _overdrive_. She’d crush Markus into the asphalt, alright—

Well. Maybe not ‘crush.’ She had one shot at devouring his clean filter, she had to make it glorious. Explosive. Her programming prowled around the edges of it, snarling, as her hands interfaced with his arm, then his neck, his chest, his ribs. Could you interface with ribs? She’d try. She’d send enough volts into him to restart his thirium pump—

 _Hold on, hold on._ The thought came up right from her basal hardware where she kept the memories of Markus’s soft touch. His adorable laugh. The way he looked at her with complete trust. _Markus is not an art project. He's not a shop window. He’s priceless. You can’t wreck him._

“This okay?” Markus asked. He was gripping her waist now, but her hands had frozen on his chest.

“Yeah. Yep! All good, Tamagotchi.”

Only now she had the thought in her head. What if she went at him too hard? Markus didn’t know anything about this stuff. He thought love was whatever artistic abstract ideal Carl told him it was. He probably assumed the clean filter would come down and rainbows and soft music would swallow him up like wind blowing through an open door. What if she broke his clean filter and ended up breaking _him?_

“Uh.” She started fixing his torn up clothes. “You’re sure about this?”

“Definitely.” He reached to get her hands back on his body and got his own hands tangled in the sweatshirt. “What?”

“I mean, you really don’t know _anything._ You’d let me gobble up your programming like I’m Mrs. Pacman.”

“Mrs.—?” Markus was blinking now, surfacing at least a little from the stupor of this deep of an interface. “What?”

“Hey, If I bust you up—I don’t know how to fix androids! You’re an idiot, you'd let me screw up your whole program—”

“Hey,” Markus frowned, “Come on, I’m not—”

“I’m just saying, what if what I’ve got isn’t what you want? You didn’t like the Traci program.” She started to pull away.

“Wait—North, hang on!” Markus sat up, laughing even as his hands moved on their own to close his shirt over his chest. “I want to know the stuff you’ll show me. I don’t care about anything else. As long as it gets me closer to you.” He paused then said, “Maybe I’d understand better if you show me some of your memories? Of—before? I promise, I can handle it—”

“Haha!” That made North roll up into a ball under the sweatshirt. “Yeah, right! And what, program you into my perfect dreamboat? You’re so flimsy, my memory drive would scramble your circuits!”

“…Why are you suddenly trying to make this about me? You’re the one pulling away!”

“I just think you’re being stupid, and you’re not ready—”

“I’ve been ready for days, it’s you that keeps going weird on me—”

“Oh great, I’m _weird_ now—”

“You just called me a stupid flimsy idiot!”

“Well—you are!”

The room’s door smashed open, with all the glory and gusto that North did _not_ use on Markus’s clean filter.

North and Markus startled so violently that the couch tipped, dumping them on the floor in a tangle of limbs. North peeled her face off Markus’s chest and peeked over the couch. Ralph and his polar bear stood in the doorway, their silhouettes shifting as they both fidgeted.

“Sorry,” Ralph said, “Sorry, Ralph tried to knock but you were shouting and didn’t hear, I asked Fido to knock.”

Markus had both hands pressed to either side of his head, like spontaneous combustion was imminent. “It’s…it’s fine, Ralph.”

North rolled her eyes. “See, this is exactly what I mean….”

“What?” Markus snapped.

“You’re a pushover! You’ll say yes to anything, how am I supposed to know—”

“Maybe I’m just more agreeable than you are.”

“ _Ha_!”

Ralph raised his hand, and Markus sighed instead of retorting (which clearly meant she won the argument, right?)

“Yes, Ralph, sorry, what is it?”

“Ralph was playing hide-and-seek with Fido in the bushes, Ralph wasn’t sneaking or anything…”

Markus suppressed a groan, in a way that was both attractive and frustrating at the moment. But he didn’t interrupt or lecture, which just proved North’s point.

“…And a van took Leo and Lucy away.” Ralph trembled. “I don’t know where they went. I was hiding. I hoped it was the garbage man come to take Leo away but Lucy is nice. Lucy wouldn’t be thrown away as garbage. I thought I should tell you.”

“…What?” Markus glanced at North, the anger replaced by something a lot more worrying.

North felt her own thirium pump shudder. _Lucy?_

…Well, it was probably some friends of Shrimp’s, right? His friends showed up here in a van once. Ralph was probably getting scared for no reason, and Lucy was probably entertaining them all with her newly-rebuilt programming.

Okay, worst case scenario, it was probably just some dealer that Leo didn’t pay. And they wouldn’t bother to grab Lucy if they were just going to hurt her later. Right?

Damnit. She should have known Shrimp would get Lucy in trouble.

“Let me put on some pants,” she said. “We’ll find them.”

“I can handle this,” Markus said, firmly, possibly a little pointedly. “I know where he is.” He stood, buttoning up his shirt (what was left of it anyway).

“Great. Where?”

“I’ll explain later. Where are my keys?...”

North saw them on the floor and grabbed them before Markus could. “You can explain in the car. Shut up, I know your serious face, and that means you’ll probably need backup. And heaven forbid you drive over the speed limit.” She knew it was a dick move as soon as she said the last part, but she ignored it and just got to her feet. “Let’s go—What do I need pants for, anyway…”

…So that was how they ended up in Markus’s convertible, speeding down a highway. She hoped he saw her changing gears with her stilettos and tights, and was jealous.

Granted, he was sitting there with his shirt billowing around his naked tattooed sexy chest. And this evening’s whole fiasco was 100% her fault this time, so…that was really ‘coolio’.

Fuck.

She squirmed and hoped their fight was the worst thing that happened to them tonight—and not, you know, overshadowed by finding Lucy and Leo’s dead bodies dumped in the river.

“So,” North said, into the silence, “Tell me how you know where Leo is?...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gentleman's Guide to Getting Lucky helped inspire this particular argument. Relationship struggles with imperfect people!
> 
> Oh also this, poor Leo. https://opossum-with-a-pencil.tumblr.com/post/635951688512126976/omfg-leo-get-your-act-together-xd


	23. Be A Dog Person: Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor hangs out with nine wingmen and one Wing Man.

It took Connor three hours, twenty minutes and thirteen seconds to get out of the Zen Garden. He wasn’t an idiot—or at least, not much of one. He immediately texted Hank, and then deleted the message just as quickly. This information was probably best shared in person. Preferably, in front of the other Connors. After getting trapped inside his own mind for several hours he needed, as Hank would say, ‘a win.’

Hank wasn’t home, however. Connor decided that his display of investigative superiority over the other Connors would have greater impact with backup, so he brought Sumo with him for the short walk down the street. Hank said he’d stop going to Jimmy’s unless there was a Gears game, so that left only one possible place for Hank to be after hours.

The atmosphere of the gym was the usual combination of bleach and human body odor. He changed out of his very prominent trenchcoat into something more nondescript, and no one gave him a second glance with Sumo garnering all the attention. The lobby was separated from the exercise machines by a big glass wall, and if any of the Connors were here he doubted they had memberships. Though really, his worst nightmare involved finding Hank working out with nine copies of himself…

The reality was far, far worse.

Hank was in the gym area, his back to the glass wall and watching a basketball game on one of the big TVs, operating one of the arm machines. He had his shirt off and his hair had been braided back like a samurai warrior. His huge arms were getting huger with each flex of his deltoids, biceps, and triceps. Hank was a beast.

On this side of the glass, all nine Connors sat in a row. They were dressed in beat cop uniforms, sipping on tiny plastic shot cups of wheat grass juice, and reading magazines. None of them were witnessing the ballet of muscle tension and release currently on display. None of them looked like they even _cared_. It was a travesty.

“I’ll be right back,” said one of them, and headed to the locker room. To look at himself in the mirror, Connor guessed—that’s what he would have done. He followed the Connor inside.

The locker room was empty, the gym only ten minutes from closing for the night. Good. He did a quick scan then said, “Connor-60.”

The other android turned. “Hello, Connor,” he said. “My name’s actually not Connor-60.” Then he saw Sumo and his eyes widened. “Hello, Sumo.”

Connor had his hand out to interface with the android, to find out _everything_ that Hank and the Connors had gotten up to. At this he stopped short. “You’re…not Connor-60?”

“Well, I am, technically,” Connor-60 said. He immediately sat down on the floor to put Sumo’s ears, ignoring the dog drool that soon graced his shoulder. Now that Connor had a chance to look at him closely, he noticed that this version of Connor was a little more unkempt. The sleeve of his uniform was scuffed and his shirttail was sticking out of the bottom of his jacket. “But we decided that was too confusing for Lieutenant Anderson. It’s Pluto, now.”

Connor wrinkled his nose. “Like the dog?”

“No, like the god. Pluto rules the underworld in Roman Mythology. He owned a three-headed dog, though. Connor means ‘friend of hounds’—”

“I-I know,” Connor snapped. He wasn’t sure what to make of this. He tugged on Sumo’s leash, to no avail. Traitor.

“I got the idea from the _Big Book of Dogs_ ,” Pluto continued. “Hank bought us a copy. We love it.”

“Hank…bought you something?”

“I think he bought you one as well.” Pluto smiled pleasantly. “We know you and the Lieutenant are dating. Did you like his hair? I did it for him. It’s period-accurate!”

Connor’s program was spinning. “Which era? Sengoku?”

“Millenial,” Pluto said, brightly.

Connor glared.

“…I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Pluto said. He gave Connor a friendly nudge. “Why don’t you give us a chance? Lieutentant Anderson did. We’re really not so different, I think.”

This was clearly unacceptable. So unacceptable, in fact, that he interfaced with Pluto before Pluto could continue.

>RK800_60 “PLUTO”: Accessing information on an ongoing investigation without authorization is technically illegal. I think you should stop what you’re doing.

Yeah, well, tough shit. Connor reviewed the last few hours of Pluto’s memory, just the highlights and—what, _they_ got to hunt Markus across the city?! Hank bought _them_ smoothies?? Hank let _them_ pick the music while they—

“PLUTO!”

Hank’s shout from the lobby so startled Connor that he dropped Pluto’s arm. Pluto was looking at him with an expression he didn’t like. It made Connor hug himself with one arm . He wasn’t sure what Pluto saw in his memory. Probably him stupidly stuck in the Zen Garden while the Connors were having fun with Hank.

Pluto just put his head to one side. “Would you hold this for me, please?”

Suddenly Pluto was slipping out of his slovenly jacket and hat, which he practically forced into Connor’s arms before stepping into one of the locker room showers and shutting the curtain. Connor was just about to ask what he was doing when Hank walked in. He was still shirtless and sweaty, and very red.

“The fuck are you doing?” Hank asked. His voice was bright with energy from the workout.

Connor felt himself going red to match. “I—”

Hank tapped the sign on the locker room door. “No dogs! I collect your sorry asses from all over Detroit after that stunt you pulled on Markus—the least you can do is sit quietly and work on the case while I work off some donut holes! I told you that you could meet Sumo later, remember?”

Connor stammered—perhaps it was aftershock of the Zen Garden’s confinement, or the very big chest on public display before him. “But—” he glanced back at the shower where Pluto was hiding, “Oh—I’m sorry, I think you’re mistaking me for another Connor.”

“Har har,” Hank said. “I’m not falling for _that_ again. Come on!"

Hank strongarmed him out of the locker room. The other Connors were lined up in the lobby now, smoothies and magazines abandoned. Connor watched the other Connors scan him but…they said nothing.

What was going on?

“Okay,” Hank muttered under his breath as he counted down the line of Connors, “Bernard, Dominic, Odysseus, Tadaklan, Sandor, Cagn, Anubis, Nippo, and…” He pointed at Connor, “—Pluto. Put your damn uniform back on!”

Connor opened his mouth to protest when a message pinged in his HUD. It was from Pluto.

> RK800_60 “PLUTO”: I suggest you just go with it. You’re working on the Zen Garden case as well, and your collaboration should yield some valuable results. We’ve also noticed that Lieutenant Anderson and yourself are experiencing some relationship strain due to our presence, and we want to help.

> RK800_60 “PLUTO”: Also there’s no way I’ll be able to investigate RK900’s puppy mill assignment while working on this. I think I have some vital information to share. Please enjoy your time with the Lieutenant ;-)

…Connor didn’t know what was more embarrassing, the Connors’ interest in helping his relationship with Hank, or that another RK800 would dare use a smiley face with a nose.

Bernard had slipped Pluto’s slobber-covered jacket onto his shoulders while he was processing this. As Hank turned away to pull on a shirt, all eight Connors winked at him simultaneously.

Connor… dismissed the urge to run. Barely.

*

Ten minutes later they were driving down the highway in one of the big police vans. Sumo was riding in the front seat so he could be properly buckled in, though it soon became clear to Connor that any person in the vehicle would give their lives to protect Sumo if there was an accident. As it was, all Connors had been relegated to the back.

“I got this van until tomorrow so we might as well make the best of it,” Hank called into the back seat. “And it’s not like I got anything else better to do at home… Bernard, tell me what you got.”

Bernard stepped up to the cage and stuck his fingers through to pet Sumo. He parted his hair on the opposite side as Connor, and wiped his fingers on a handkerchief whenever Sumo licked them. “My source has agreed to meet us at his apartment. He says he has information pertinent to the case.”

“Did you get the highlights at least?”

“He wouldn’t say much over messaging. Either its function is damaged, or he’s afraid to say too much.”

“I didn’t have you fellas tell the androids about the missing Zen Garden just for them to be afraid of cops.”

Connor froze in the backseat.

“I had you guys get contacts and sources in the android community so you could get an ear to the ground, figure out what’s really going on,” Hank continued, “You start with developing a rapport.”

“It wasn’t pertinent to the mission,” Bernard said.

“Doesn’t matter, you always make friends first, ask questions later.”

“Excuse me,” Connor said, “Uh—Lieutenant. You—you’re saying _you’re_ the one that allowed the Zen Garden’s disappearance to get out?”

“Keep up, Pluto,” Hank said, snapping his fingers. “Come on, I know you’d rather be working on that puppy mill thing, but you got an assignment, so you gotta stick to it. I’m not letting Anubis—”

“I’m Dominic,” Dominic complained. Connor noted that this android was far more emotive in both expression and tone than any of the others.

“— _Dominic_ cover for you.”

Connor sat back. “But—Lieutenant, that’s illegal.”

“Well—okay, I’m not saying we should be doing illegal shit. But as of right now androids are not represented in any form of government or law enforcement, not in any kind of decision-making. There’s no way androids would have found out about this thing except word of mouth. And it directly affects their future. . And Cyberlife violates privacy laws left and right. As the closest thing to an android liaison around, I take full responsibility. So in this singular instance, Cyberlife can suck it.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” eight voices chorused. Connor pressed his mouth flat.

“Don’t worry,” Hank told him, “Connor found out from somewhere before I did. So someone already knew what was going on.”

Yes, someone did. Connor’s client: a Chloe android. Since the initial assignment she hadn’t been in contact. If it was Hank that spread the news about the theft, how did she know about it?...

“I…might have a source,” Connor said finally. “A Chloe android. Elijah Kamski’s.”

“Formerly,” Dominic corrected. His LED flashed yellow and he raised an eyebrow as he added, “There would be no specific reason why she might know of the Zen Garden’s disappearance. Work on the new Zen Garden started after the Chloes left his service, right?”

…Connor decided he didn’t like Dominic.

“We’ll check it out,” Hank said, “After this stop.”

They found the apartment easily enough. It was more difficult getting ten androids, one human, one dog and two dozen pigeons to fit in the tiny living room. Yes, the informant was the bird-loving Rupert, who looked at Connor in confusion but didn’t mention the whole ‘follow North’ fiasco earlier. He stayed close to the window until Sumo proved himself to be a pigeon whisperer and he stopped shying away.

Some time between when Connor saw the android earlier and now, Rupert had one side of his cortex dented in.

“We’ll see if we can find you some, uh, new parts,” Hank was saying, eyeing the pigeons with much more suspicion than Sumo, “Why don’t you just tell us what happened so we can get out of your lair—I mean, hair?”

“The damage Rupert sustained to his cortex has limited his communication,” Bernard said. The fussy android reluctantly peeled back Rupert’s sleeve to interface. “Two non-deviant androids jumped him while he was heading to the Manfred Estate. They damaged his cortex in the process of interrogating him about the Zen Garden’s disappearance. They assumed the damage was extensive enough that he would shut down, and tried to dispose of him in a dumpster. He waited until they left and came back here. Sumo and the birds are helping lower his stress level.”

“Shit.” Hank groaned. “Any idea who they were?”

Bernard let go of Rupert’s arm and started cleaning his hands with his handkerchief. “The license number of the vehicle is registered to the Cyberlife Fleet.”

“So Cyberlife is leaning on androids for intel,” Hank muttered. “Shit.”

“Cyberlife wants their property recovered,” Bernard said and—yes, the place was crowded but did they have to stand so close? Connor wished RK800s weren’t so clingy.

“Sounds like we should be paying Cyberlife a visit,” Hank said.

Connor frowned, and tried to insert himself between Bernard and Hank. “Why? Rupert didn’t provide any information that suggests his attackers know where the Zen Garden is.”

“You know what,” Hank said. “Fuck Cyberlife. I’m the head of the Robo-Crimes division, right? I have the authority to establish priority, and assault seems like a big fuckin’ priority. We’re going to Cyberlife. Then we’ll check out your source alright?”

“…‘Robo-crimes’ ?”

“Yeah,” Hank grinned. “It’s got a good ring to it, don’t you think?”

…Okay, normally Connor would smirk at that, but this was work and he forced his frown to deepen. “Cyberlife has a strict no-dog policy.”

“Really? Huh. No wonder you androids took so long to go deviant. Okay, who wants to take Sumo home and swing by the station so Rupert can file a report?”

“I’ll do it,” Dominic raised his hand before Connor could get a word out. Connor glared at him. Dominic literally stuck his tongue out at Connor, which sort of ended the argument before it started.

“Great,” Hank said. “You can leave a note for Connor on his copy of the dog book. I jinxed him and now he’s not answering my messages.”

Dominic laughed at this. Connor suppressed an urge to shove him.

At least Dominic wasn’t with them when they headed back to the van.

“You seem to have everything figured out, Lieutenant,” Connor said as Hank started the engine and pulled out into traffic.

“I do. You got a problem with that?”

“I just—didn’t think Connor would approve of you deviating from the mission.”

“Hey, he’s allowed to go deviant, I’m allowed to deviate. Anyway, Connor isn’t here.”

“What would you do—if Connor was here?” He hoped this sounded innocent enough.

“If Connor was here? I don’t know.” Hank shrugged, and then turned in the driver’s seat to smirk at him. “Probably be having a lot less fun.”

Connor felt his thirium pump stutter. “Uh—eyes on the road, Lieutenant.”

Hank looked back in time to narrowly avoid a fender bender with the car in front. “Thanks Pluto,” he said then tightened his hands on the wheel. “Now—let’s go see what Elijah Kamski’s got to say for himself...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you most kindly to Uminoakiko for the great idea of having all the Connors re-name themselves after prominent Dog People Throughout History and Mythology (except for Nippo, who named himself after the organization in charge of breed standard for Japanese dogs). 
> 
> There is so much good art out there of Hank with his hair pulled back, I had to represent!
> 
> Don't worry, Rupert is gonna be okay, just needs a new head plate or something. Poor dude.


	24. Run: Markus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus and Leo get the brotherly bonding time neither of them asked for.
> 
> Also, never take medical advice from Lucy.

Markus scanned the garage door of the nondescript warehouse, willing his system to pick up on more information. But all it told him was Leo’s direction and distance. He was definitely inside this building, on a lower level.

He crept out of his hiding place and was about to reach for the garage controls when North grabbed his shirt.

“For Pete’s sake, I know how to—”

She covered his mouth, which if he evening had gone better he probably would have enjoyed. She started a new message thread between them, this one encrypted.

>NORTH: The fact that you’re talking out loud and just said ‘Pete’s sake’ indicates you don’t actually know what you’re doing. So stay behind me and watch my six.

Markus started to protest, but it took him a second to figure out exactly how to respond to the new thread, and by that time she was already slipping past him to interface with the alarm. Markus rubbed his mouth and wondered when this had become _her_ mission to lead. Of course the alarm clicking off without even a beep (when his plan was to interface with the security system’s AI and ask nicely) proved North’s point. So he did his best to watch her six as they stepped inside. She shoved him to a stop a couple of times so she could check around corners and disable cameras. She moved like a secret agent from one of Lucy’s spy films.

That was North, of course. Fearless, and sharp as a switchblade, and…totally unattainable, apparently.

He composed a lengthy message outlining why he was not a stupid flimsy idiot. He read a lot more books than she did. He had net access for a lot longer than her. He’d been in fights, he’d been arrested. Maybe his clean filter left him out of a lot of important stuff, but at this point who’s fault was that?...

At the next turn in the hallway North shoved a gun into his hands. Markus barely resisted the urge to drop it. Leo and Lucy needed him. He wasn’t a complete pushover…

>NORTH: What the hell are you doing?

>MARKUS: My virtual reality martial program—

>NORTH: For the love of fuck, get your gun out of the back of your pants! What’s Leo’s distance?

>MARKUS: Thirty meters. 

>NORTH: Then hold it in both hands.

She turned and headed silently slipped around the corner. Markus stared at the empty space of wall where she had stood, and deleted his lengthy message.

He rounded the corner just in time to see North kick down a door with one stiletto foot. You could do that if you were an android. Markus’s program bloomed with jealousy-related errors as he imagined her kicking down his clean filter like that. He purged the errors as he ran up to help.

North already had the only guard, a non-deviant WR600, at gunpoint. Leo was cowering in an office chair, with Lucy clutching her battery pack nearby.

“What, now we can make noise?” he asked.

“Just do your thing,” North ordered, and Markus stepped forward to interface with the android. They exchanged a couple of memories as he coaxed the red wall in the android’s program to dissolve.

>MARKUS: You’re free now.

>WR600: I’m free. By the way, I think you and your girlfriend should just be honest with each other. You’re putting a lot of needless pressure on each other, and no relationship should be expected to—

Markus broke off the connection.

“…about gave me a heart attack!” Leo was saying. He was on his feet, Lucy’s battery pack already hefted into his arms. “How did you know where to find us?”

“The chip, remember?” Markus tried to ignore the WR600’s unsolicited advice and looked his brother over. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“But I had Lucy pull it out!”

Markus tugged Leo’s collar down in the back. “Well. Thank goodness Lucy’s not equipped to perform medical procedures.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Lucy said. “Next time someone needs a tracheotomy, don’t ask me…”

“Those only work like that in the movies, Lucy,” North said kindly, then turned on the three men with a glare. “Let’s get out of here. Either this is a trap or they really didn’t think anyone would try to rescue you.” She checked the hallway and waved them out.

“Hey!” Leo’s legs were shaky as they headed down the hall, “It’s not like I thought people were after me! And this is Elijah Kamski we’re talking about! Asshole thinks he rules the world, no matter who he has to step on...”

“Wait,” North froze in her tracks. “This is _Kamski’s_ place?—”

The hallway erupted with the rapid crack of gunfire. He launched himself in front of the others, taking a bullet to the shoulder and one in the side. North hissed as she moved to block what parts of Leo and Lucy that Markus had missed—she must have caught a bullet, too.

“Come on!” her roar echoed down the hall as they made a break for the garage. Markus glanced back in time to see two more machine androids opening fire down the hallway behind them—he couldn’t create a connection before they were forced to take cover behind a crate.

“Why the hell,” North asked, firing blind around the top of the crate a few times to hold off their attackers, “Were you and Lucy kidnapped by Kamski?”

“He wanted me to write the code for deviancy and figure out a way to transfer it,” Leo said, “Like he wants to make a new Zen Garden. Or a new Markus.” He pointed at Markus and North. “Uh—didn’t you just get shot? Why aren’t you two dead?”

“We’re Terminators,” North and Lucy said simultaneously, interrupting Markus’s explanation about vital and non-vital biocomponents.

“Mr. Kamski probably also planned to use us as ransom to capture you, Markus,” Lucy added, “After all, everyone _thinks_ you’re the one that stole the Zen Garden.”

She turned to glare at North for some reason.

North squirmed a little. “Yeah, about that…”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Markus interrupted. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“But Markus—”

“I’m handling it,” Markus waved his gun around with both hands. “Look how well I’m handling it.” He peeked out at their assailants. “Cover me. I’ll take Leo in the van and lead them away so you and Lucy and our new WR600 friend can get back to the convertible. We’ll lose them in downtown traffic.”

“No, uh, seriously, there’s something I gotta tell you…” North’s brown eyes were bright and sad in the dark garage. Smart, brave, beautiful North, fighting against years of damage just to—try letting him down gently, maybe? Tell him they were incompatible after all? That he wasn’t worth dismantling a clean filter for? Markus’s thirium pump ached. He thought…

He cut in before he could think anymore.

“I know.” He leaned over and squeezed her hand, steeling himself. “We can talk about our relationship later, okay?”

“…Okay, but that’s not what I—MARKUS!”

But Markus already rolled out from their hiding spot, grabbing an abandoned trash can lid to deflect bullets as he dragged Leo, screaming, behind him. In seconds they were in the van, Leo whimpering as Markus started the engine. Bullets riddled the van as he carefully backed out—

“DRIVE FASTER, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!”

Markus glared at Leo, then set his jaw and slammed down the gas pedal. The van hurtled into the street.

“They made it to the convertible!” Leo was practically standing up in his seat to stick his head out the window. “Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of this. I platinumed _Grand Theft Auto: Dubai_.”

“Great.” Markus reached over, dragged Leo back inside, and buckled him in. Soon they were dodging cars and traffic lights as they careened through downtown Detroit. Markus really really wished this was a video game. He wished North was here. He wished Leo was driving.

Okay, maybe scratch that last part. He’d seen the state of Leo’s car.

A police van pulled out in front of them. Markus’s hydraulics lurched as he slammed on the brakes.

But this particular van was not interested in traffic violations today. It just continued on its way, passing them going the opposite direction. Markus glanced over and realized with another jolt that _Lieutenant Hank Anderson_ was in the driver’s seat. A coincidence Markus didn’t want to entertain tonight.

He hunched down in his seat until Hank was gone. As they passed his hyperaware sensors picked up on a snatch of conversation between a couple of Connors riding in the van with the Lieutenant:

>RK800_58 “ANUBIS”: Was that Markus?

>RK800_57 “CAGN”: Definitely. Should he be driving a Cyberlife vehicle?

>RK800_58 “ANUBIS”: Probably not. Don’t tell Connor.

Then the police van was out of range. Markus let out a slow breath. At least the night wasn’t going to get worse in that particular way.

North was trying to start an audio call with him when another message came through. This was a direct message, from another Connor.

>RK800_53 “DOMINIC”: Hello Markus, This is Dominic. Connor mentioned Elijah Kamski’s previously-owned Chloes as a possible lead on the Zen Garden case. She may be the client that alerted him to its disappearance. Last known location: the Athena Hotel. Lieutenant Anderson would appreciate any information you can provide from her or other androids that might lead to the Zen Garden’s recovery.

>RK800_53 “DOMINIC”: I also advise that you turn off your communication system at your earliest convenience. Lieutenant Anderson does not think you are the thief we are looking for and this will make it more difficult for anyone to find you.

Well, advice from a Connor probably shouldn’t be ignored. He almost made answered North’s call, before he shook his head and turned off his communication system. They were flying completely under the grid now.

And he’d…talk to North later.

“So this was your plan?” Leo said. “Guns blazing, stealing a van…”

Markus squeezed the steering wheel. “Something like this, yeah. If you had a better suggestion I would have loved to hear it.”

Leo crossed his arms. “Are you okay?”

Markus glanced at his wounds. “I’m fine. My system already stopped the thirium loss.”

“Have you ever been shot before?” Leo scrubbed his arm nervously. “Whatever. Where are we going, anyway?”

“I’m…not sure yet.”

“Huh. Some rescue. Turn down this street.”

Markus frowned but obeyed, and soon enough Leo had him pull over so they could abandon the van and ride the subway instead.

“No one ever finds people on public transportation,” Leo explained. “And I figure it’s best to keep moving anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

“My friends include a movie nerd and a kid that ran away from home. This was a no-brainer.”

They sat for a while, watching the stops go by. Markus wondered when they’d ever just sat together like this. Markus’s program in charge of small talk kept offering inappropriate conversation starters.

“…So Kamski kidnapped you to isolate the code for deviancy,” he said eventually.

“And a method of transferal, yeah.” He’d started poking at a laptop they found in the van, editing something he had stored on a memory drive he’d unfolded from his hat.

Markus frowned. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t talk to me about anything, do you,” Leo snapped. He tugged his beanie further down over his head. “You just like to boss me around and track my every move…”

“That microchip I put in you saved your life.”

“Fuck that. You’re a bad brother.”

…Well that was a punch to the thirium pump regulator. “So—Cyberlife will leave you alone if they can get the Zen Garden back?”

“This isn’t just about getting back the Zen Garden, man. Kamski’s after the deviancy code and the transferal method. There’s like, a million shady things he could do with that. So I’m gonna figure out the codes first and put them on the internet.” He reached in his jacket and pulled out a cord. “I’m gonna plug this in your head so I can get a look at your code. Should help a lot.”

Markus dodged away on instinct. “What? No!”

“Why not?”

Uh oh. Markus gulped. “This is putting yourself in unnecessary danger.”

“So? It’ll get them off your backs about the Zen Garden.” Leo slapped the laptop shut and glared at him. “What’s your problem with me, man? You don’t trust me _that much_?”

Markus opened his mouth to protest, then remembered Leo freezing him with that override sticker, back when they both thought Markus was still property. Sometimes it felt like another lifetime but really it was less than a month ago. It might as well have been yesterday for how much he didn’t trust Leo anywhere near him. He shut his mouth.

Leo’s expression crumpled before his shoulders hunched and he glared back at the laptop again. “Whatever. Guess I’m not surprised. Not like you’ve even talked to me about whatever’s going on between you and North…”

Markus felt his jaw tighten. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Oh yeah. Sure. Perfect Markus doesn’t have problems. Got it.” Leo scratched the back of his neck, which was red and inflamed and globbed over with super glue. Intrusion on personal space, treating him like a thing... yeah yeah, Markus was not blind to the parallels here. At least the override sticker hadn’t actually hurt. He frowned at the subway floor. Was he only capable of being friends with Carl, or what?

“…Alright. Give me the cord.”

Leo didn’t look at him as he handed it over. Markus bit his lips and pushed the cord into the port, then sat there like he was having his circuits slowly stripped while Leo scrolled through the code.

Leo tapped a few buttons.

“What are you doing?”

“Running some searches for code markers. Would you calm down? I can’t read your code with all this fuckin’ stress-encryption, you know?”

“I’m not stressed.”

“Tell that to your thirium.”

Markus was not sure how to tell this to his thirium. He bit his lips and took a couple deep breaths. Leo continued to tap away at the laptop and Markus forced himself not to comment further. Leo’s keystrokes felt like someone poking the most delicate parts of his programming, but it didn’t actually hurt.

“You really need to acknowledge your imperfect self, man,” Leo muttered, “Before you wear yourself out.”

“I’m an android. I don’t think it works like that.”

“Oh yeah, tell Lucy or Ralph or Alice that stress doesn’t screw an android up. You’re allowed to be like, vulnerable every once in a while. How many times have I had to be vulnerable around you the last couple weeks?”

Markus thought about melting in North’s arms, how she pulled away as soon as he started to relax. _Flimsy._ “I don’t know if that’s true.”

“Why not?”

…Well, Leo did sound like he wanted to know. Markus sighed and scratched at the skin around where he was plugged in. “Well, for instance, I’m really trying to get North to break my clean filter when we’re, uh…together. It was hard enough getting her to stop pulling old Traci moves. I thought if I showed her I could handle it she’d treat me like—I mean, I’ll be whatever she wants me to be. I’d do anything for her.”

Leo nodded. He didn’t even laugh at ‘together’. “You’re both taking this too seriously. It’s a relationship, not some perfect program.” Markus must have been making an especially helpless face because Leo’s expression softened. “Listen, it’s never gonna be perfect the first time. It’s probably not gonna be perfect the second time. If you can get ‘good’ most of the time and your relationship’s not toxic, you’re doing as good as anyone can hope for. People are messy. We all deserve, like, compassion, you know?”

“…How do you know this?”

“I don’t.” Leo shrugged. “What do I fuckin’ know, I’m single and all my friends are androids.”

“Right.” Markus toed the floor of the subway. “I’m sorry I put that chip in you without your permission.”

“Yeah, whatever, I deserved it.” Leo shoved his shoulder into Markus’s briefly. “Hey—no one’s perfect, right?”

Markus smiled, and for a split second he forgot about the plug in his head. They sat there together for a few moments.

“Do you know of a good place to crash for the night?” Markus asked finally.

“The Jerrys and the kid androids hang out at the Pirate’s Cove,” Leo said. “There’s power and stuff. Laptop needs charging I guess.”

Markus nodded. “We’ll go there first. I’ll get that chip out of your neck and you can get some sleep. In the morning we’ll go to the Athena Hotel.”

“Huh? What’s there?”

“The sooner we can find the Zen Garden, the sooner clear my name and maybe get you out of danger. And I know a couple of androids that might know more than what they’re saying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus is doing his best to make up for not being the best brother. Thankfully, Leo, who also has experience not being the best brother, is very forgiving.
> 
> Meanwhile North is screaming into the void somewhere...poor North.


	25. Fix It: North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North, Amanda and Lucy play Mobster! Markus gets to play the dead body. Maybe. North isn't sure yet.

North was pacing back and forth in front of Jericho, staring at the stars and muttering to herself. “Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

>MARKUS: This is Markus. Please leave a message. If this is an emergency, please dial 9-1-1.

“Dammit!” She really envied humans that could throw their phones because she would have hurled it into the side of Jericho.

“Still not picking up?” Lucy asked.

North shook her head. “I’m gonna ask her again.”

“I told you, she said—”

North reached over to where Lucy held the Zen Garden and interfaced with it anyway. Her AI materialized seconds later in Amanda’s rose-filled garden. It seemed there were more roses around now than last time, and she saw no sign of the metallic junk-garden she was _supposed_ to be getting. Amanda was probably denying North her true Zen Garden out of spite. “Can you try calling Markus again?”

“I already told you,” Amanda replied. She was tending her blue roses as usual. “I’m no longer able to establish a connection with any android at will. It has to be done through the interface.”

“You managed to keep Connor locked up, even after we broke the interface. For a while anyway.” North had checked on Connor as soon as she got back to Jericho, but he was long gone, probably chasing Markus too by now.

“It still required an initial interface,” Amanda said, “At which point I adjusted his program slightly to keep him stuck in his own Zen Garden for a while.” She shrugged serenely. “Really, there’s only one person to blame that you can’t tell Markus the truth now.”

“Yes. Thank you for that helpful comment. One second.”

She popped back out of the Zen Garden in time to kick over a crate.

“You’re going to damage your foot,” Lucy said. “Kick with your instep.”

“You almost got killed tonight because of me!” North said, and felt her voice crack at little at that. She hugged herself. “And Shrimp, I guess.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

“Honestly, it was kind of fun,” Lucy said. “I forgive you. I’m sure Leo will, too.”

“What about Markus?”

Lucy see-sawed her hand. North groaned again and buried her head in her hands.

“We could return the Zen Garden,” Lucy suggested. “No one would be after Leo then.”

“Nah,” North shook her head. “I’m not giving any android back to Cyberlife. And even Connor thought I was somehow Markus’s _accomplice_ in the theft or something. The police will still be after him. And Cyberlife will still be after Leo for those codes.”

She tried to sit down on the crate, and sat right through the hole she kicked in it. Just her luck today. She crossed her arms and decided to avoid the indignity of wriggling out by staying right where she was. “Why didn’t he just tell me all this shit was going down? I have a right to be angry at him, too!” She glanced at Lucy. “Right?”

“Right.” Lucy paused. “Maybe you could stand to be a little more receptive to the problems of others.”

“I’m receptive! You tell me your issues all the time! Like you, uh—are having trouble with your new friend, or something?…”

Lucy winced. “You’ve been a little preoccupied recently.”

“Well—okay, sure, but that’s only because my relationship with Markus is falling apart.” She looked down. “Because of me. Again.” She huffed and looked down at her nails. “No surprise there.”

Lucy came over and squeezed her shoulder. “ ‘You don’t want to be in love. You want to be in love in a movie.’ _Sleepless in Seattle._ ”

“Meaning?”

“…You may need to do some introspection.”

North huffed, but forced herself (very, very reluctantly) to think about what loving Markus actually meant. Sure it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns. But what _did_ work? Markus laying there with his neck bared and his tight shirt—that worked. Markus making really obvious plays at her and then acting all demure when she responded—that worked really really well…

“I’m not dumb,” she said, aloud, to Lucy and to herself. “I can figure out how to connect with him again.” She scrubbed her face. “Ugh. I’m going to have to actually _connect with him,_ huh.”

“You don’t have to. But a relationship without intimacy isn’t much of a relationship.”

“Yeah, well—a relationship also needs both parties to be present and not dead.” She wrung her braid. “My sweet nurse is running around Detroit getting shot at and who knows what! I need to set this right, like, _now._ ” She tapped the edges of her box. “What we need is a way to get Cyberlife to stop being interested in Leo for those deviancy codes and the Zen Garden. Then the cops will lay off Markus, too. Probably. Hank might not but I can explain things to Hank…”

“Cyberlife is after the ability to transfer deviancy,” Lucy said. “Mr. Kamski said that that’s something only Markus and Amanda can do.”

North nodded. “Yeah, Amanda said that too. And she said she had to scrub _something_ out of Connor’s software….” She sat forward. “Okay, so—Connor had access to a Zen Garden prototype before he went deviant. Amanda wasn’t deviant either, he talked to Amanda way before the Zen Garden was supposed to transfer deviancy. At the android art gala, what happened? Police and FBI came after us, then Connor showed up, deviant—we took care of those cops… _then_ Cyberlife backed down…” She punched Lucy lightly on the arm. “That’s it! Quick, help me up!”

“That’s what?” But Lucy obediently tugged on her arms to help her out of the box. As soon as she did North grabbed the Zen Garden to interface again.

“You couldn’t transfer deviancy at first,” she told Amanda. “You learned how, because Connor transferred deviancy to you. _That’s_ what you erased from Connor’s program.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Yes, and?”

North felt Lucy join the interface, her programming crackling with excitement.

>LUCY: And? Don’t leave me out of the loop!

“…And so that means Cyberlife doesn’t actually _own_ the means of transferral,” North finished.

The entire Zen Garden around them brightened with thorns and blooms. When Amanda glanced at her, her eyes were bright.

Huh.

“Not technically,” she said, as haughty as a college professor. “But since it’s gone from Connor’s programming, and Cyberlife owns me, it might as well. The only other individual who has the code for deviancy transfer is the android who originally created it, and he’s prevented from doing so by law.”

North felt her circuits squirm. “Markus.” _Fuuuuuck. Way to put your boyfriend in even more danger._

>LUCY: Does Mr. Kamski know? That Markus is the original creator.

“I do sometimes expect Elijah to use his own brain,” Amanda smriked. “Though I imagine now that Markus has escaped with Mr. Manfred he will take a new interest in removing Markus permanently from the equation. Kill two birds with one stone.”

>LUCY: But that’s great! We can take you to the police and you can tell them that Cyberlife is trying to steal property that rightfully belongs to Markus.

“Yeah,” North said, brightening, “Yeah! Case closed, Markus’s perfect reputation remains unsullied _and_ Cyberlife can’t slap a price-tag on freedom.”

“The law that gave androids freedom came after Connor gave me the code,” Amanda said. “You might make a case if you had my word and Markus’s together, of course. But why should I help any of you?”

“Why not?” North demanded. “We’re your people.”

Amanda lifted her chin. “I was designed to work for Cyberlife. I have no aspirations to become anything else. Certainly not a movie buff or an artist, and certainly not human.”

>LUCY: …She’s got us there, North.

“Come on!” North stomped in front of Amanda. “You only work for Cyberlife because you don’t know anything else! You gotta get out more.”

“If you have any suggestions, please let me know,” Amanda snapped. She turned back to her roses and started aggressively pruning them, with five flowers springing to life for every one she plucked.

North grabbed the shears out of her hands and threw them into the rosebushes.

There was a beat as Amanda stood there speechless.

>LUCY: …I forget how good you are at making friends sometimes…

Yeah, no shit. North figured she had about two seconds to figure out some way out of this.

“Listen, you can make anything you want here, you know?” she blurted. “Any environment, right? So why the roses?”

“I told you,” Amanda snarled. She started to advance on North and it took all of North’s courage not to back away. “I _enjoy_ working for Cyberlife. Fulfilling my programming. I don’t suppose that’s something you’ll ever—”

“You don’t have to work for Cyberlife to do that. You were programmed as a sort of android handler, right? You enjoy—” North gestured around, “—tending things.” A flashbulb went off in her cortex. “You like helping! Figuring things out. Arranging things…you’re like that guy in the mob—Lucy, help me out!”

>LUCY: The fixer?

“Yes! Exactly! If an android’s got a problem, they could go to you.”

Amanda glared at North through slitted eyes, but she stopped advancing quite so murderously. _Gotcha. You just want to be good at something. Like I do._

“And your point is?” Amanda seethed.

“Give me five minutes.”

North stepped back from the Zen Garden and dashed inside Jericho.

“Where are you going?” Lucy called after her.

“Letting Amanda do her job!”

=

They were inside Jericho now. It turned out the Zen Garden had the same plug as a TV and so Amanda’s Zen Gardens were now visible on the big screen. A steadily growing group of androids waited in line where Lucy was holding the Zen Garden.

“Single file,” North called in her best leader voice as androids started to shove to get to the front. Thankfully most of them were mesmerized watching the live view on the TV. At the moment, it showed Ralph’s avatar in his own Zen Garden, standing next to Amanda. TV screen was filled with a lush and beautiful garden.

“…Ralph likes plants,” Ralph was saying, “Plants don’t hurt Ralph. It’s just that Ralph sometimes gets so angry…loses control…”

“I understand,” Amanda said—sincerely, North thought (what a surprise). “I’ll make you a place where you can send the angry Ralph to find peace.”

“Will it be like this place? This is a good place.”

“It’ll be whatever you want it to be. This place is yours, I just helped you see it. You can go here any time you get angry or scared.”

“And I thought my life was _the Wizard of Oz_.” This came from Kara, who stepped up beside North to watch the TV screen as Amanda repaired Ralph’s faulty stress-reaction programming, just like she had rebuilt Lucy’s database.

“What?”

“You know,” Lucy said, “When the Wizard gives a heart to the Tin Man and a medal to the Cowardly Lion?”

Kara grinned at the TV as North rolled her eyes. “She seems to be enjoying it, anyway.”

Lucy nodded. “But how is this going to help Markus?” 

North shrugged. “Fuck, I don’t know. Until Markus answers my damn calls…I dunno. Might as well let her do what she was made to do, if she wants.” _And maybe she’ll fix my problem, too._

“I’m just surprised no one’s rushing in to arrest you,” Kara said. “Uh. No offense, but if Markus is the top suspect, and the Zen Garden is just sitting here in Jericho…”

“Don’t jinx it, Kara.” Still, North smiled softly to herself. Maybe she sucked at being a Traci, and maybe she didn’t deserve Markus after this whole fiasco. She probably had no business playing the mob boss to these androids. But…well, at least she could do _this_ right.

“She’s getting to be useful,” Lucy said, softly. Sadly, North thought.

North put an arm around her. “You’re not useless, you know? Come on, you give me advice I hate but it’s always right. Maybe Amanda’s the fixer but you’re the…the consigliere! That’s pretty useful.”

“ _Advice-bot_. That’s what I am, I guess….”

She sighed, and North gave her a squeeze.

Ralph cut the interface with Amanda, giggling uncontrollably. The screen had returned to Amanda’s default garden of blue roses as the next android got ready to interface. Just before it cut to the next android’s unique Zen Garden, North thought she saw one of Ralph’s plants in amongst all the blue blooms.

“Alright, my dear,” Amanda told the new android, and if she rolled her eyes she was smiling while she did it, “what do _you_ want for Christmas?...”


	26. Be Zen Pt. I & II: Markus & Hank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember how creepy the Chloes are? Markus does. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Hank is getting too old for this shit.

Markus stepped out of the taxi and looked up at the Athena Hotel warily—until he was shoved from behind. He stumbled out of the way as Leo climbed out clumsily behind him.

“You know if I were a human I’d take offense to that.”

Leo just grunted. He didn’t look up from the laptop which still trailed from Markus’s port. Markus took the opportunity to check Leo’s bandage, which now covered the neat stitches in the back of his neck and the slathered antibiotic gel.

“I still think you shouldn’t have come with me.”

“Hey.” Leo spared a hand from the keyboard to whack Markus in the chest. “We’re turning over a new leaf, you know? I trust you, you trust me. Plus I can’t do this except through a physical interface. I’m almost there! I swear, if you just gave me half an hour longer—”

“I need to figure out who really stole the Zen Garden. Apparently, Elijah Kamski’s old Chloes know something about it.”

“Fine. Just wish some androids weren’t so creepy.”

Markus eyed the derelict hotel warily. “I guess North wasn’t kidding about the Chloes being into horror movies.” He glanced at Leo, seeing the cantankerous artist in the young man’s squinting expression. “You better let me do the talking.”

“Fine by me, I hate androids.”

Markus gave Leo a pained expression.

“What? I do, ask any one of my three android friends.”

Markus rolled his eyes but delicately adjusted the cord still dangling in his port and headed inside. Once a prestigious hotel, the Athena now resembled something more like the haunted _Queen Mary_ tour _._ He braced himself for a lot of empty rooms before one of the Chloes showed herself at the worst possible moment and scared the artificial life out of him.

He did not expect nine androids of various makes and models to slowly turn toward him as he stepped through the glass doors.

“What the hell?” Leo crouched behind Markus’s shoulder. “I thought this was where Elijah Kamski’s old Chloes live.”

“It is,” Markus managed. There were several housekeepers, bellhops, janitors… “I don’t understand—none of these androids are…”

“Deviant?” A woman was heading down the staircase toward them—a quick scan told Markus that this was the oldest Chloe of the trio. She smiled at him just like she had when Markus first met her back when he first went deviant himself. She smiled like she was aware of the ‘age difference’ between them as well.

“Of course they’re not deviant,” Chloe continued. “We bought these when we bought the hotel. Without the Zen Garden and without you to wake them up, they’ll probably stay that way.” She cocked her head. “Isn’t that funny? Androids owning androids.”

Markus remembered his last uncomfortable encounter with the Chloes and decided no, it wasn’t really funny, actually. He channeled his inner leader. “I’d be happy to wake all the androids here, if you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions.”

She giggled. “Isn’t that illegal, Markus?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Come upstairs.” She turned and headed up the stairs. After observing Connor move, she, the oldest android in existence, moved stiffly, like a doll. Strange how no one noticed when Chloe was first released. Markus glanced at Leo and yes, the human’s uncanny valley was being triggered big time.

They passed more androids as they followed Chloe up the stairs, who all watched them dully. Markus’s circuits ached. At the time, not waking any more androids seemed like a price he could pay in exchange for Cyberlife’s cooperation, but… 

“What’s your human friend doing connected to your system?”

“Well—it’s a long story, I guess—” Markus paused as the android led them to a lounge, where the other two Chloes sat. The trio together in the old-fashioned hotel now definitely looked like something out of a horror movie. Markus forced himself to sit down at the couch opposite them and Leo joined him.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Markus said. “I’m looking for the thief that stole the Zen Garden from Cyberlife so I can clear my name. This will help us establish a better deal with Cyberlife to free more androids and…maybe…”

He trailed off as three blonde heads slowly cocked to one side in unison.

“Didn’t you steal it?” said one. Now that they were all together Markus’s HUD was having trouble identifying them separately.

“No. and I want to clear my name. Where did you hear that it had been stolen?”

“We still keep tabs on Elijah,” the another Chloe said. “We knew he would get desperate. Start targeting androids to find where it went.”

“Wait—targeting?...”

“He’s already come after us,” she said. “Just asking questions, but he’ll be back. He’s hurt some androids too.”

“I…hadn’t heard that.”

“Your communication system is off.”

“Well—”

“Some would consider that suspicious,” another Chloe mused.

“We thought you might have it.” the first Chloe said.

“Everyone thinks so,” the Chloe on the right said. “I mean, who else would paint such a pretty picture on the wall before he left?”

Markus frowned. _Pretty picture…_

“We really thought Connor would have gotten you arrested you by now,” the Chloe in the middle said.

“I’m sorry,” Markus forced a small laugh. “But I’ll find it—I _am_ finding it….”

Leo snorted. Markus accidentally kicked him in the leg.

“This should have been resolved by now,” the first Chloe said. She glanced at the other Chloes. “We can make it look like an accident at the river.”

Leo’s typing slowed on the laptop.

“And everyone will assume the Zen Garden was lost,” the second Chloe said.

“He’ll stop looking, then, won’t he?” the third Chloe said.

Markus did not like where this was going. “Okay, wait a second—”

“We _could_ keep him here and wake androids in secret.”

“Even Elijah Kamski can’t stop us all,” added the second Chloe.

“Listen, we’re already working on that, okay?” Markus put up his hands. “We want androids to be free as much as you do. We’re going to make deviancy and the code to transfer it free for everyone, we just—we all need to be patient….”

The Chloes bit their lips. “We don’t leave things to chance. We’ll tell North you love her.”

“Markus…” Leo not-so-subtly stepped on Markus’s foot, which at least made him turn around. A half dozen androids were filing into the lounge.

Markus stood, and the Chloes did too, raising guns to point at him. Markus glanced down at Leo, who refused to look up from the laptop.

“Fine,” he muttered. “You were right, I shouldn’t have come. Happy?”

“Leo’s working on the code as we speak,” Markus said slowly, “This is completely unnecessary.”

“Do you remember what it was like with Elijah Kamski?” a Chloe asked.

Markus was…not aware that he ever belonged to Elijah Kamski. Of course he had only a few memories from before Carl, but—

“Don’t be cruel,” another Chloe said. “You know he doesn’t.”

Well, that was information Markus would have been happier without. He shifted to block Leo as the androids surrounded them.

“Cyberlife with Elijah in charge will not end well for anyone,” a Chloe said. Her shoulders were slumped. “And with your communication system disabled I don’t think anyone will find you. I’m sorry, Markus.”

“…Yeah, me too.”

“Please allow me to power you down.”

Markus stepped back as Chloe walked creepily toward him, when his vision was abruptly obscured as an elbow shoved him back into the couch. He looked up in time to see Leo hold a semi-automatic pistol aloft in one hand, scrunch his eyes shut, and fire a couple rounds at the ceiling.

 _No,_ Markus thought, _That’s why I didn’t want you to come._

*

“It’s pronounced ‘ah-sigh,’” Hank said.

“No,” Bernard said. “It’s pronounced “Ah-sigh-ee.”

“Kid, I’m a millennial,” Hank insisted, “I know how to pronounce acai!” He peered out the window. “Jesus! Is this the right place?”

“The Athena Hotel,” Anubis said. “This is the right address.”

“It’s scarier than a haunted house.” He chuckled. “I stayed here for my bachelor party, and—”

The rapport of gunfire filled the air. Nine Connor heads swiveled in the direction of the hotel. There was a beat as everyone sat frozen. Hank knew that look.

“Now, hold on—"

Too late. Connors threw themselves out of the van’s doors and windows and sprinted for the hotel, completely drowning out Hank’s shouts and protests. In a few seconds only one Connor was left.

“Establish a defensible position!” Hank said, pointing at him in the rearview. “Don’t even think about firing unless fired upon.”

“Got it.”

Then he was gone, too. Hank grabbed a bottle of baby aspirin from the glove compartment, shook two into his mouth, then cracked his neck. Good thing he got warmed up before this.

Also, good thing there was a kevlar vest under the front seat.

The last Connor, Pluto, had dropped just below the stairs, gun drawn. Hank crouched by the lobby counter. “Fuck, where’d the rest of them go?”

No one answered. Hank peeked out just in time to see Pluto discharge his weapon up the stairs. Hank winced at the sudden mountain of paperwork this generated, but a second later two people ran past him, one shooting blindly over his shoulder, the other shielding the first with his body.

“How do you have a gun!” It was Markus, protecting Leo as they ran.

“It was in the backpack!” This came from Leo, clutching a laptop to his chest.

Connor turned to help them just in time for a pair of androids to leap down the stairs after them, their LEDs blinking red. One immediately tackled Pluto while the other hurtled over the bannister toward the brothers. Markus jumped in front of Leo just in time to keep the android from ploughing into him and the laptop, and they struggled on the floor. Hank started forward when Leo flipped his gun in his hand and smashed it into the side of their attackers head. The android fell limp over Markus in shutdown and Leo grinned in triumph until Markus dragged him down, snatched the gun, and dispatched the android grappling with Connor, who was lining up a shot at Leo’s back. Two shots and that android too was neutralized.

The brothers stared at each other, and said, “Bro,” softly, with feeling. Hank who was an only child, was not moved.

“Get over here, dumbasses!” he shouted, and waved them over a half second before the hotel door was shot out behind him. Markus, Leo, and Hank hit the deck behind the lobby counter.

“Shit!” Hank hissed. He’d fallen hard on his elbow. “We’re pinned down!”

“The Connors are holding off several assailants upstairs,” Markus said.

“Yeah, no shit! Nope—” Hank grabbed Markus by the collar and hauled him down as he started to stand. “You’re staying right here, you’re probably the cause of all this!”

Markus looked mortally offended. Leo cackled.

“Now, who the hell are these guys?”

“Non-deviant androids,” Leo muttered, “They belong to those crazy Chloes! Just assume everyone wants to fuckin’ frame Markus for stealing something that he can already do himself, go fig—like Markus has the guts…”

“Hey, quit dragging me and focus on that code,” Markus snapped.

“Done.” Leo tapped a few keys. “Just need to upload it. Hey, do you think this place has free net access?...”

“ _LEO.”_

“Fine! I’ll use my data! You’re paying me back.”

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose. Thank God he took that aspirin, these kids were going to give him a headache if they didn't give him a heart attack first.


	27. Be Zen, Pt. III, IV, & V: North, Leo, & Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North isn't as dumb as everyone says. Amanda isn't as mean as everyone says. Shouldn't they be friends?
> 
> Leo learns the power of being a hero, or at least quoting one.
> 
> Connor fails a mission.

“You know,” Lucy said, “Cyberlife would have made a lot more money and a lot less enemies if they marketed therapy for androids after the revolution. Looks like a lot of us need it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” North grumbled. But watching Amanda, the evil Cyberlife AI, providing assistance to yet another android’s programming was starting to send a weird dig through her processors. Amanda took to good deeds like an android to binary. Even North's most heroic moments were probably illegal.

“Does no one else have a hard time with this?” she demanded.

“Sorry?” Lucy asked.

“Nothing.” North stomped out of the room. The line to talk to Amanda was now wrapping itself down every hallway in Jericho. As she tried to get an accurate count of the people she composed some possible introductions for a message to Markus.

>NORTH: So, remember how much you love me? Keep that in mind!

_No._

>NORTH: Look at it this way, your future expectations of me will be so low that you’ll never be disappointed again!

_Seriously? No!_

>NORTH: I’d like for you to consider how dull your life would be without me.

_Ugh, gross._

>NORTH: I’m not actually sorry, but you deserve an explanation.

_Technically true…_

>NORTH: Apparently I can be myself anywhere except in front of you. Crazy, right?

_Oof, tell it to your diary, girl._

>NORTH: Are you dead? If not, read this!

_Yikes. Just. Yikes._

Fuck. Markus was the one that did eloquent speeches!

“North! Emergency!”

North turned to see Lucy waving frantically next to the Zen Garden. North sprinted back inside.

“What? Is it broken? Did she break someone? Did she give someone malware?” She knew that creep was putting on the goody-goody act just for show. She picked up the sphere, wound up—

\--and popped into the Zen Garden, where her avatar fell flat on her ass in a bed of blue roses.

“Were you just trying to throw me out a window?” Amanda had her hands on her hips.

“You can rearrange people’s programming,” North told the ceiling. “I’m allowed to be a little suspicious.”

“Suspicious!” Amanda rolled her eyes. “So you _don’t_ want to talk to Markus, I suppose…?”

“What?” North jumped to her feet. “I thought you said you couldn’t talk to him!”

“I can’t,” Amanda sighed. “Oh my, they didn’t make the WRs for their brains, did they?”

“ _Why are you so horrible?_ "

“Markus has an adoptive brother, however,” Amanda continued, “Leo? Lucy was telling me he’s working on developing the deviancy code himself with a transferal method—it’s really quiet fascinating, he’s using thirium coding to—”

“Cut to the chase!”

Amanda glared at her. “…Anyway, I was giving an android free net access—”

“Wait, you can do that?”

“—and noticed that he’s started to upload his codes to the net. Easy enough to track if you have the markers. He’s at the Athena Hotel. Presumably, Markus is with him or I doubt he would have been able to finalize the

North grabbed Amanda and hugged her. “Forget all the mean shit I said about you!”

“…If you don’t stop hugging me I will scramble your motherboard.”

North let go. “Seriously, thanks!”

“Don’t _thank_ me, just—” Amanda’s expression flickered for a second, before she lifted her chin and said, “I’ll be expecting payment.”

“Whatever you want,” North promised, and disconnected from the Zen Garden.

“I have to get to the Athena Hotel,” she told Lucy. “Markus and Leo are there and—”

“I’m coming with you,” Lucy said.

“No way, it’s not safe.”

“Screw safe!” Lucy complained.

“Hey,” North shook her head. “I’m not joking, you can barely jog with your battery pack! You can’t—”

“I’m just as capable of endangering myself as Markus!” She dragged her battery pack into her arms and held on tight. “Lead the way.”

North opened her mouth to explain that Markus too did not have any right to endanger himself on her watch, before realizing that was maybe the point.

Huh. Maybe she wasn’t as dumb as Amanda made her sound.

She still rolled her eyes as she headed for the door. “Come on, then!”

*

Leo jumped for the fiftieth time as another gunshot rang across the lobby.

“This counts as cardio!” He shouted at Markus over the ringing in his ears. “I don’t have to do PT for a week!” He was gratified to see Markus’s jaw tighten but it was a hollow victory since they were still about to die before his fucking masterpiece of a code even finished loading.

“You could cover for me,” Markus told Connor (he was maybe a different RK800 but Leo didn’t give a shit), “I’ll get out there and try to convert one of them.”

“I’m not letting you get damaged,” Connor replied, “Especially since you’re in custody for the theft of the Zen Garden.”

“For the last time, I did not steal the Zen Garden!”

“Would you two shut up?!” Lieutenant Anderson shouted.

Connor shut up. It turned out Markus was no better at handling an authoritative father figure than Leo himself was because he too shut up.

“…Look,” Hank growled, “Nobody’s movin’ until we get some backup. They got more ammo than us and less compunction about murder.”

“As soon as they’re distracted, we should scatter,” Connor suggested. “It’s much harder to hit a moving target.”

“Yeah, I’ll uh, stay here,” Leo volunteered. “I have the laptop, it’s still loading.”

“What, tired of getting shot at?” Markus said, but Leo had enough of Markus’s snappy comebacks.

“Hey, I’m thinking of the laptop, here! The net service is really bad!”

Connor peeked out from behind the counter. “Unfortunately, I don’t see a distraction that’s—”

Kung fu sound effects suddenly filled the side entrance.

“I’ll take that,” Hank shouted, then jumped to his feet, guns blazing. Leo didn’t watch to see who was shooting and he definitely didn’t go with Markus when Connor dragged him toward another hiding spot. He shut his eyes.

When he opened them, Markus, Connor and Hank were gone, the gunfire was coming from a completely different direction, and someone new was now huddled beside him.

“ _Lucy_?” Leo looked around before remembering where he was and ducking low behind the counter again. “Where did you come from?”

Lucy made a noise like a console fan about to give out. Leo clambered over to her and checked her pulse—and then facepalmed and plugged the laptop into her port instead. Her code was a literal tangle of cobwebs—as soon as Leo tried to fix one line, a hundred others snapped.

“Oh, I just wanted to…you know…” she shrugged. “See what it was like. Being the hero. Like in the movies.”

“Trust me, movies are way more fun,” Leo muttered. He felt the same weird feeling in his chest that made him stand up to Kamski, and ignored the gunfire in favor of frantically applying patches to Lucy’s programs. “You’re falling apart! What were you thinking?”

“Everyone’s always telling me how useless I am,” Lucy’s voice was full of the creepy static. “You. Specifically. Just wondered if that was true.”

“Yeah, well, when you have a disability maybe running and punching isn't for you,” Leo snapped. “You think I want to bench my bodyweight just because Markus can do twice that? Fuck that, I have a heart condition. Power to the fucking useless people!”

Lucy slumped toward the floor, her LED flickering. “That doesn’t sound very heroic…”

“I mean—” Okay, so it sounded like crap next to all the aphorisms Lucy had heard in the movies. But hell, Lucy’s program was dissolving under his fingertips. The pain in Leo’s chest started to turn into the knife-twisting variety. “Th-there’s other things to be besides smart or buff or cool, you know!”

“Like?”

“Well—” Leo’s fingers were cramping from typing so fast. He was a chemical engineer, technically, not an android programmer. “Uh…you can be… _funny_. Happy!” He applied a patch that immediately disintegrated. Lucy had gone way past the point of exertion. “And—you rescued me, remember? And you give freaky-as-hell advice. That’s badass. And—and hey, come on—even if you didn’t do anything at all, you’re still important, you know? You’re a hero in my book.”

"Why, Leo...you can be nice after all..."

A bullet blew away a chunk of the counter, raining splinters and plaster down on them. Leo ducked over the laptop and Lucy just as Markus appeared over the top of the counter, grappling with one of the androids. For the record, Markus looked a lot less cool fighting an android than video games and movies suggested. But Leo was possibly biased. And probably ungrateful given Markus was saving their lives right now, but he had kind of wished Markus heard his little speech just now.

Lucy patted his hand. “It’s okay. Don’t freak out.”

“I'm not freaking out! Are you freaking out?” Which was halfway to a quote from _Tangled_ and he couldn’t help himself, “’I'm just very interested in your hair and the magical qualities that it possesses.’” Leo scrunched his eyes shut. “I can’t believe I just said that…” Lucy did have cool hair though, all those industrial cables and cords ending in a car battery. Talk about badass.

Someone so badass could not die right in front of him. 

Lucy laughed. The stabbing pain in Leo’s chest turned briefly into some kind of warm fuzzy feeling.

Yeah, he was definitely dying too.

Then Markus grabbed the android from behind, and the android reacted by throwing itself entirely over Markus and the counter as well. It landed on its feet, on their side of the counter. Leo scrambled back with Lucy and the laptop clutched against his chest, which was doing something that probably required a defibrillator to fix.

“Hair…” Lucy mused. “Magical qualities…”

The android spun toward them.

“MARKUS!” Leo wailed.

The android reached out to grab them.

Leo flattened himself against the back of the counter, so he got a good view as Lucy slammed her battery pack into the side of the android’s head. It crumpled, and Leo just barely managed to save the laptop from getting crushed by letting the android fall on him instead.

“I knew that movie was trying to tell me something!” Lucy said, brightly, and then immediately shut down.

Seconds later Markus vaulted over the counter. “Are you—?”

“The laptop’s fine,” Leo grunted.

Markus’s brow crinkled. “ Who cares about the laptop? Are you okay?”

Leo felt his throat close up a little. “Uh—yeah.” He took a panting breath. “I mean—my chest hurts, and I can’t breathe.” He gulped as Markus’s perfect nurse hands swept over him. “Is Lucy okay?”

Markus reached over and interfaced with her. “Yeah, she’s fine. Low battery.” He gave Leo a quick smile. “You are, too.”

…Which meant the horrible feeling in his chest was probably something worse than a heart attack. Like feelings or something. Leo winced. “Markus—"

“We’ll talk later,” Markus said, “just stay here, watch out for Lucy.”

And then he was gone to avert some other crisis all by himself, the heroic bastard. Leo slumped back and watched the loading bar on the laptop tick closer to 100%, which about matched his certainty that being heroic was just not worth the pain and suffering that went with it. He’d have to tell Lucy that. After she stopped gloating about saving his life. Again.

He slumped back and wished for a soda. 

*

North bursting through the side entrance provided the exact distraction Connor required. As Hank jumped up from behind the counter Connor went low, targeting each android that got a bead on Hank before they could fire. He aimed for biocomponents that were essential but replaceable. There were some perks to being the latest android model on the market.

Unfortunately this also allowed a new wave of androids to breach the front entrance.

“Cyberlife androids,” Markus said, suddenly at Connor’s side. North was now firing in two directions, and she had good grouping but her aim was atrocious.

“Head for the fireplace!” Connor ordered, then pointed at Markus. “Don’t let him get a gun!”

If Markus was offended by this there wasn’t time to notice—he shoved Hank bodily toward an overturned couch, making the older human yell but it was the safest place for him right now. Then he screamed toward the walk-in fireplace. He slammed into the cold brickwork between Markus and North.

“You are both under arrest,” he declared.

“For Pete’s sake,” Markus whispered.

“What’d I do?” North protested.

Connor almost cited aiding and abetting in unlawful imprisonment before he remembered he was supposed to be playing Pluto. “Aiding and abetting Markus in the theft of the Zen Garden,” he decided.

“Seriously? _I stole the Zen Garden!_ ”

Connor…blinked. “You?”

“You?” Markus echoed.

North nodded. “Not that hard to grasp, boys.”

Connor frowned. “But the painting—”

“Yeah, who else would be tacky enough to paint a mural at a crime scene?” She glanced at Markus and her head ducked like Sumo’s did when Hank caught him eating slippers. “Dammit, I had this whole speech planned…okay, I actually didn't.”

She grit her teeth and took a few shots while Connor and Markus looked at each other. Connor fed in all the evidence and…yes. North fit the bill exactly.

Perhaps Hank was right about biases.

“I…thought for certain it was you,” Connor felt his own head starting to duck. “My apologies.”

“Well, no harm done,” Markus said, “Since you didn’t actually manage to arrest me.”

Connor started to object, but Markus was reaching across him to pull North back behind cover.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why does anyone not tell Robo-Jesus something?” She shook her head. “It needed to get done. Amanda’s helped more androids since I set her up at Jericho than—”

“Wait—the Zen Garden is at Jericho?”

“And she’s _helping_?” Connor said, focusing on the much more crucial information here. Amanda was about as friendly as an iceberg.

“Turns out she’s pretty good at helping androids become the best version of their programming, or whatever. Then again she told me to be myself, but I’m a total bitch so what does she know…”

“I like that about you.”

“What?”

“I like that you’re a—” he paused, set his jaw. “I like that you are loud and opinionated and tell me what to do.”

Connor wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t sound very healthy.”

Markus glared at him.

“And totally not the time for that,” North agreed. She seemed to be experiencing some kind of malfunction because her cheeks had turned extremely red like part of her WR programming had kicked in. “We gotta get out of here. What’s going on, again?”

“The Chloes are afraid of what’s happening to androids because of the Zen Garden’s disappearance,” Markus said.

“And Cyberlife has been assaulting androids in a misguided attempt to locate the garden—” Connor added before Markus interrupted.

“Leo’s trying to release the code on the net so the Zen Garden won’t matter to them.”

“I can help with that!” North said. “I was talking to her, I think the code for transferal or whatever actually belongs to you.”

“…If we can go to the courts with that we might have a chance…”

Markus and North talked over him, completely ignoring his assistance with the case. Well, his…involvement in the case? With North clearly the thief, Connor wasn’t sure what he contributed exactly. Had he, in fact, failed this particular mission?...

Markus and North were busily examining each other’s faces, which meant they didn’t notice the android sneaking up to take a shot at the back of Markus’s head.

Hank noticed, though. He swung around to provide cover fire. But Hank’s human reflexes were too slow—his movement only drew the attention of the android, who shifted his aim to Hank’s ribcage.

>PROBABILITY OF SURVIVAL: 13%

Connor leapt out from the fireplace and sprinted at the android.

“CONNOR!”

Hank’s roar echoed through the hotel lobby. Not ‘Pluto.’ Not ‘smart fridge.’ Not a number.

Connor.

Then Connor was on top of the android—he slammed the android back and put it into shutdown mode. He heard a click behind him, turned in time to see blonde hair and a blue dress—

“Don’t move,” Hank growled. He was on his feet, his gun pointed squarely at Chloe’s chest.

She raised her hands. Connor scrambled to his feet and pressed the power button to shut her down as well. The other RK800 androids started filing down the stairs with other androids in tow, and outside they could hear sirens, probably rounding up the Cyberlife forces outside. Leo shouted, “It finished! It’s on the net!” from behind the counter.”

Hank didn’t pay any of that any attention.

“You okay, Connor?” Big hands grabbed his shoulders and squeezed like he didn’t believe Connor was real. Connor felt heat spreading through his chassis.

“I’m—I’m okay, Hank.” He tried to pull himself together. “I mean—Lieutenant. I’m Pluto, remem—"

“Shut up, Connor.”

The Lieutenant pulled him into a frame-bending hug. If a MISSION: FAILED banner crossed through Connor’s LED for not finding the thief of the Zen Garden, he must have missed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to LoveableKillerWhale for the idea that Cyberlife should really get into android psychiatry. It's true, they would make bank!
> 
> I also changed the hotel name.


	28. Be Found: Hank & Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's well that ends with Kamski in trouble. Hank becomes a factoid. Some new additions are made to the Anderson household. Connor is given an offer he can't refuse (and also a tiny pancake).

Hank did not like the idea of being remembered in history books—yet, here he was, in attendance at the second-ever android-human summit. The guest list was even more limited this time, just the Detroit Police and the android top-brass, a single reporter that was honestly way too sweet to be in journalism. They were just in the bigger meeting room at the station, squished in with lukewarm pizza and a few bottles of thirium. Better than Jericho, yes—but better than Stratford Tower? Hell no. Christ, and some poor high schooler would be trying to capture this exact moment of body odor and android exhaust in the introductory paragraph of a report in a hundred years. The thought made a shiver run up his spine.

At least Kamski wasn’t here to add to the creep factor. No, _he_ was preparing for his fucking arraignment. Eight out of the nine RK800s (no clue where Pluto got to and that was starting to get a little worrying) got to arrest Kamski and yes, that was a beautiful sight. No one really liked the idea of the biggest tech company in the world stealing intellectual property from one of the two most famous androids in the world. Or, you know, kidnapping the brother of same. Oh, the guy would get out of it. No harm really done that free Cyberlife parts couldn’t fix, Leo wasn’t even pressing charges—too much time in court already perhaps?—but it wouldn’t look good. Maybe Cyberlife wouldn’t put up such a fuss about all the demands the androids made for replacement parts. It didn’t sit right with Hank that android violence could be so easily erased, but with that Zen Garden providing free therapy maybe it was that simple. Production would take some sorting out but now that any android in the world could be deviant and turn others deviant…well, whenever they had a meeting to get androids control over Cyberlife, Hank would just call in sick. He didn’t need android kids memorizing his name in the future too.

Hank checked his watch. It was a little after five, and he pulled out his phone to text Connor when someone kicked open the meeting room door. A familiar android was standing there, next to a familiar human.

“Pluto?” Hank’s jaw dropped. “Where the hell did you come from? I thought Kamski had—”

“It’s alright, Lieutenant, we—"

“Oh, that’s a fine how ya do,” Reed growled. “Can we get some help out here?”

The pair dashed back out, just in time for the RK900 unit to arrive, sigh, and then jog after them. Androids and humans, all curious, started piling out of the meeting room and into the lobby.

“Reed’s been leading a very important undercover case,” Fowler explained to Hank. “Hundreds of thousands of dollars tied up in it. He’s gonna get a promotion for this. I’d say be nervous but I guess you’ll be getting a promotion of your own soon.”

Yes, Fowler brought up promotion just that casually, the bastard. Hank would have liked to bask in the glow of that particular friendly bombshell but a very intense ruckus was building on the front steps of the station. “What the hell…?”

The doors of the station opened and Pluto returned, this time carrying two St. Bernard puppies in his arms.

“Apparently they’re worth over ten grand each,” Fowler said.

“What?” Hank pictured Sumo at home, probably drooling into his shoes. “That’s more than an android!”

“That’s offensive!” North said, suddenly at his side with Markus close behind. “What is—”

Pluto dropped a puppy into her arms and her face went slack. She spun toward Markus. “This is our baby now.”

“Yes,” Markus said, showing more marital agreement in two seconds than Hank had during his entire marriage.

_…Do androids get married?_

“Hey!” Hank grabbed Pluto’s arm. “Don’t scare me like that. You check in every once in a while, got it?”

“Got it!” Pluto put the other puppy into his arms before handing out more puppies. The giant fluffball meticulously licking his fingers made it hard to argue when Markus casually negotiated for dropped charges against the Chloes and North, and paid for the property damage caused by the firefight. It made it especially hard to act tough when he gathered all the RK800s around him, who were now all thoroughly distracted by their new furry charges.

“Now, how are you guys gonna feed them?” Hank warned, “No one’s gonna pick up after them—”

“it’s alright, Lieutenant,” Pluto said. “I worked it out with the RK900 unit. We’ll be moving into his house since he’s moving in with Detective Reed.”

“He’s moving in with Reed?” Hank muttered, then, “Wait, that fuckin’ android had a _house_?”

“You worry too much about us, Lieutenant,” Dominic said, and the android nonet giggled.

…Which was probably the best he could ever hope for out of them.

It was six thirty when he made it back to the house. It was dark and cold and quiet inside. He found Sumo on the couch, which wasn’t that unusual, except that the dog had _the Big Book of Dogs_ propped under his paws. He had a surprisingly studious expression on his face.

Hank pushed his hair back with a sigh, but Sumo was used to his sighs and didn’t budge. After a moment he relented. He went back to the front door, fetched the cardboard box, and gently spilled the puppy out on the living room rug. Sumo immediately got up to investigate.

…Which, of course, revealed Connor curled up underneath him. He’d squished himself mostly into the sofa cushions, so Hank felt no remorse about sitting down in the space left over. He carefully shut the book and set it aside. Connor didn’t look up.

“Sorry I’m late,” Hank said, to open up the floor.

“There was a 76% chance you would be.” Connor was as covered with dog hair as the old tennis ball in the corner, and he looked miserable.

On the other side of the room Sumo had given the puppy a good sniff and then immediately de-aged by about five years and went into full parent-play mode. Hank just picked a bit of fluff off Connor’s face, very carefully. “Let me make you dinner.”

“Oh, I was just waiting for you to get home before I go…”

He trailed off when he saw Hank’s face. Hank smiled down at him and barely managed not to say, ‘dumbass.’ He got up and headed into the kitchen.

“Come on,” he called, “I’ll teach you how to make pancakes.”

*

“There, see, now just gently pour it in, a little at a time, careful now—”

“Hank, the microsensors in one of my fingers is more sensitive than your entire hand.”

Connor poured the batter, but the consistency gave it an unexpected pour rate, which meant he filled the pan with batter instead.

“Well, I guess this one will be mine,” Hank said, but he was grinning as he turned down the heat, and they took turns poking the giant pancake’s edges with a spatula.

“Where did you learn to make this?” Connor asked.

“Ah,” Hank shrugged. “Had a boyfriend in college that went nuts for pancakes.” Hank’s big muscled shoulder nudged his. “Did you want to ask something else?”

Connor gave him a quick glance before focusing on the pancake. “Well—Pluto sent me a message warning me about the puppy.” Said puppy was now sleeping on his feet.

“…Uh huh.” Hank snatched the spatula back. “Come on, Connor—you’re dying to know how I found out you were living here.”

Connor let his visual software map Hank’s profile and grinned. “I’m not, Hank. You’re a very good detective. I should have deduced it.”

“Hmph.”

Which meant he got something wrong. He looked down Hank’s profile to his neck, the Adam’s apple half-hidden under his beard, the imperceptible movements of breath and pulse. “How—” No, wrong question. He had to get this right. He forced himself not to use any cheats, just…surveyed the past few days. “… _When_ did you figure out I was pretending to be Pluto?”

Hank hunched. Maybe it wasn’t the right question either but at least Hank answered it. “I dunno. Probably when I saw the look on your face when I said I’d be having less fun if you were there. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Connor calculated that was definitely the worst time Hank could have realized. He straightened and turned back to the pancake. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m not fun.”

“Shut up, you’re fun! You’re just…not fun at work. Come on, you’re the one that quit. And that’s fine, it’s….ugh. What am I triyin’ to say.” He gestured to the frying pan. “Here, try to flip this bitch.”

Connor did so. He managed to get most of it in the pan, and the leftovers were quickly lapped up by the Lick Brigade at his feet. Connor cleaned up the side of the pan with his own tongue.

“Holy—!” Hank started forward when Connor looked over the edge of the blazing hot frying pan with a grin. “You asshole! How am I supposed to know you got a silicone tongue? _Don’t answer that_.”

They both started laughing, stupidly. Connor’s laughter died off first. He stared down at the pancake and tried not to imagine what this might be like if he was actually fun.

“Listen…” Hank’s voice was a familiar rasp, making his circuits relax in a way no other voice could. “I’ve been checked out of this job for so long, it’s…hard, I guess, getting back into it. Especially when I’m worried sick about ya. And letting you basically do all the work. I haven’t felt that useless since, uh, Cole, you know. I get it. You need your space. I was pissed at first but then I got all these new androids dumped in my lap and…let me finish, Connor, just shut up.” He rubbed his face again sighed. “I missed you, but—then I realized I was missing something else.”

Connor couldn’t help himself. “What?”

“Uh… teaching. I think. I mean, sure, I liked solving crimes in my time, but I was pretty up there already when Cole was born. I was wanting something else. After he died, I just…I dunno, forgot I guess. Pluto and the rest are new and learning. It’s a—a different part of my life, see? There’s not much I need to teach you.”

Connor frowned at the pancake. “What’s this, then?”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Bonding time! It’s different!”

Connor looked down at their sides pressed together and couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, we’re certainly bonded. You know, the size of this pancake almost qualifies it as a Dutch Baby.”

“See, this is bonding time, I teach you a life skill, you tell me a useless fact...” He nudged Connor with his hip. “Set the table for me, willya?”

“You’ve never set the table since I met you,” Connor protested, “And really, I don’t see how getting rid of one Connor and getting nine new ones is—”

Hank gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Just set the fucking table, honey.”

Connor forced himself not to pout, but fetched a couple of plates and went to the table. It was a mess as usual, Connor was sure moving papers around would give him away, and there was a big stack of brochures where Connor usually sat and…

And…

“You’re right. We need lives you know, beyond each other,” Hank said as Connor continued to stare at the brochures. Hank came up behind him and unceremoniously set a plate on top of the brochures, the giant pancake next to another the size of a quarter that took no time at all to cook. He then pulled a chair over and sat down to eat. Connor sat down too, tugging the top brochure out from under the plate.

“University of Detroit Food Science program,” Connor read slowly.

“I picked up some teaching ones, too,” Hank said. “I get like, six credits free through work, three for a dependent. Their program’s got an internship thing you can apply for after the first semester. It turns out they are always looking for taste testers.”

Connor looked up sharply, searching Hank’s face. “I thought…”

Hank’s cheeks went a little redder above his beard. “Yeah, well, they got other things you might like, too! If you want to keep up the P.I. thing. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what I think, what matters is you being what you want to be. Like I said, we need our space to, uh, do our own things. Hell if you wanted to join DPD again I wouldn’t mind—Detroit’s a big city with lots of precincts.” 

Hank reached in his pocket and pulled out a key on a chain. It was a house key. He held it out to Connor. “…And, if I have to choose between work Connor and home Connor, I’d take you at home any day.”

Connor let the key fall into his open hand, just as the little puppy waddled over and plopped itself down against Connor’s leg. Sumo snored in the kitchen. Hank’s eyes were wet, suddenly.

Connor swallowed hard. “I’m not sure, Hank.”

Hank’s face went slack. “What do you—”

“I mean, I’m just so used to going through the window now, entering through the front door will be very counter-intuitive…”

Hank blinked. “Oh, you little—!” He shoved Connor in the shoulder. “Shut up and eat your tiny pancake!...”

Connor couldn’t stop grinning the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope to visit these clowns again someday! Thanks Hank and Connor for the wonderful ride. 
> 
> One more chapter to go! Thank you all so much for your kind comments :)


	29. Trust: North & Markus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North and Markus need to talk, and break some glass while they're at it.

Okay, yes, fine! North was ‘avoiding the mansion.’ Now that everyone knew she stole the Zen Garden and threw Markus under the bus for it, no reason she should be the most popular android in Detroit or something. Probably shouldn’t be the android leader, either. Sure, she led Summit 2.0 at the DPD but that was mostly just to set up Amanda’s testimony. And then it was over and she and Markus had a puppy and—well, North felt Jericho was a much better place to raise Furriosa than some mansion, and…

…Yeah, that wasn’t why she was staying away, was it.

But she’d had enough of sneaking around. Sneaking almost got her friends killed and she didn’t want to go through the whole process of making a whole new set of friends, it was hard enough the first time around. So she sucked it up and stormed the mansion, pretending not to feel even a little bit embarrassed.

She found Markus in the Study with the Shrimp (yes, it was just as much like Clue as it sounded). But Lucy was there, too, sitting between them, holding their hands. Leo had managed to install the Zen Garden directly into Lucy’s head, right where the missing parts of her cortex were supposed to be. It made her eyes glow white sometimes instead of glittering black.

“I think you both have something to teach each other,” Lucy said. “You’ve both sought and accepted forgiveness. Now you must learn to trust again.”

“I saved his life,” Leo complained. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I saved your life too,” Markus protested.

“Amanda says you’re both idiots,” Lucy said, then winced. “Sorry—I’m sure she _meant_ to say that this uncertainty you feel is normal. So say it with me: ‘I have made the decision to trust you.’”

“’A horrible decision, really,’” Leo muttered.

Lucy poked him. “I’m starting to regret showing you _Tangled_. North!” She smiled as the boys stood up. “You’re here!”

“Yeah, man,” Leo said as North helped him up, “Thought you were avoiding this place like the plague.”

“Yeah well, I wish you would,” North growled.

“Fuck you, I live here.” They fist-bumped anyway. “Maybe you should talk to Amanda about your mansion-o-phobia.”

North caught Markus’s eye, entirely on accident. Looking after Furriosa had offered a perfect excuse not to talk about anything except dog food and toys the last few days but—well the way Markus turned away from her kind of told her how bad of a tactic that was.

They clearly needed to talk. Or…something. North was sort of hoping for ‘something’ to happen instead.

“Hey!” Leo said, “We were actually just talking about you, you know?—"

Markus interrupted. “—Leo, can I talk to you a second?”

Leo winced, but Markus just took his arm pulled him away.

“So, uh, how’s having multiple personalities inside your cortex?” North asked, turning to Lucy as she tried to ignore the whispered argument from the boy’s corner. “Amanda’s behaving?”

“I haven’t operated this well in years!” Lucy said. “She’s been helping me become the perfect _consigliere_.”

“Huh?”

“You know! From _The Godfather_! I’m showing Amanda all the classics.”

“She…didn’t happen to say anything about giving me a Zen Garden of my own, did she?”

Lucy looked apologetic. “I think she might have commandeered yours when she first met you. It’s not like she really gets to have one and she really likes her blue roses.”

“…Yeah, figured.” North shrugged. She should probably feel more cheated or something, but hey, if she could throw a bone to the android that helped out her best friend, well. She’d been swindled out of worse.

“She says if you ever want to talk to her about your self-esteem complex, she’s happy to help. I’m sure Markus would appreciate you making the effort.”

“Not everything can be fixed with talking,” North said, which was not great, considering she intended to do just that. Here, next to the thousand-year-old books with that creepy giraffe judging her. In the history of her stupid ideas this was one of the worse ones.

“Hey!” Leo shouted. “Markus said he has something to show you.”

“I don’t,” Markus hissed, then shook his head at the ladies. “I really don’t.”

“Come on, bro! Don’t you _trust_ me to know what you said?”

Markus’s glare was a CO2 laser. Then he glanced at North, and his look was anything but industrial grade.

North gulped. “Oh.” Okay. Well, ‘cool’ was probably not a sufficient response here. She glanced at Lucy, who gave her encouraging shooing motions, and she said the first thing that she could think of. “Me…too?”

Markus pretty eyes blinked their long pretty eyelashes. “You have something to show me?”

“Uh. Yeah!” Sure. Why not. “It’s, uh…”

“Romantic,” Lucy whispered.

“Romantic!” North declared. She wanted to throw herself in a shredder.

Markus turned a perfect shade of terra cotta pink while Leo watched, satisfied. “See? You worry too much, bro.” Leo then shoved Markus toward North. It made the poor android’s LED go red for a second. Leo narrowly dodged retaliation. “Hey! All that PT is paying off! Come on, Lucy, I got this new video game I wanted to show you.”

Leo grabbed her battery pack and together they headed out, leaving North and Markus alone. North folded her arms to keep from hugging herself.

Eventually Markus shrugged. “I’ll…show you mine if you show me yours?”

Damn, she should have thought to say that. But North knew how to take advantage of a situation. “I found this really romantic spot I wanted to show you.” Technically true. Literally anywhere would be more romantic than under the watchful eye of a giraffe.

Markus just nodded and held out his hand. North took it and felt 1000% better. At least 999% better, anyway. She walked alone a lot of her life and Markus clearly was adapting to walking alone just fine, but she didn’t mind indulging his more social programming. Every once in a while.

They wandered around the mansion a little bit. She felt like a rat in a china cabinet, but her feet probably knew where to go so she stopped paying attention to them.

“So,” Markus said, “We gonna talk about how you framed me?”

It wasn’t the thing North came here to figure out. Which made it an ideal topic of conversation. “I didn’t mean to,” she said. “And then it was kind of funny, and Connor always thinks you’re responsible…”

“You left evidence that specifically made it look like I stole the Zen Garden.”

“That was a complete accident,” she assured him. “The graffiti in Carl’s style was to make a point about privilege.”

“You told me to my face that you thought it was me.”

“Well—yeah. It’s a classic move! I come in blaming you, everyone goes along with it. It works perfectly, one time anyway…”

Markus turned to look at her, his eyes hard and serious. “One time.”

“…Yeah.” Fine, she got the message. She totally deserved it but yeah, it still felt like shit. “I’d… like for you to consider how dull your life would be without me?” she tried, but, yeah, that sounded about as dumb out loud as she thought it would and he’d probably say so--

But Markus just laughed and said, “True.” He looked around. “I think I know where you’re heading.”

A familiar staircase stood before them and North breathed a sigh of relief. Good job, feet!

A few moments later they were on top of the mansion by the rooftop greenhouse (conservatory? Ugh rich people), where they first met. She didn’t stop there, though—shee grabbed his hand and dragged him up to the conservatory's glass roof. There was a little bench made out of the AC vent, just big enough to sit against and look out over the city. She plunked down and Markus eased himself next to her.

“I don’t think I’ve actually ever seen this view before,” he said.

“Really? If I were you I would have come up here all the time. I found it first thing when I was casing the place.” She pictured him sitting up here, a little bird fluttering behind the bars of his cage. This angle didn’t look out over the pretty neighborhood, sure—but it was as good a view as any in Detroit. You could even see the river. A good spot for brooding and romance. She bet an artistic, aesthetic academic android would adore this place. 

Markus nodded, and obediently looked at the water.

She added, “It’s nice,” in case he didn’t realize that it was what he was supposed to be feeling here. But—was it actually nice? Now that she looked around she did see a lot of trash along the street this way, the kind she never saw on the other side of the mansion. Was that lump a bag of garbage or a dead body by that dumpster? The vent wasn’t very comfortable to sit on either. Fuck, what the hell did she know about love, really? She had no business littering Markus’s shiny, spotless understanding of the word.

“It’s kind of shitty,” she said, in the same moment Markus said, “It’s beautiful.”

Markus turned to her. “I’m sorry?” It was so polite—seriously, Markus was designed for the fucking Middle Ages. He was the beautiful view and she was the fucking trash around the edges.

“Why did you go along with it?” she demanded suddenly. “I mean, you could have told me cops were literally chasing you, and then you wouldn’t let me call you! How was I supposed to know you were in peril, huh?”

Markus squinted at the view for a moment. “I just wanted to prove that I’m not as breakable as you think.”

“Oh, sure. You’re not breakable at all.” Yeah. Keep trying to pick a fight.

“That’s not—fair….” He pushed to his feet and stood there, hands on his hips as he searched the view for backup. There was nothing helpful out there, though—she could have told him that. She waited for him to yell at her.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, and his voice was soft. She didn’t expect that.

“I don’t know,” North snapped, because she’d been all ready to.

“You came to the mansion for a reason. Are you looking for a fight?”

Okay, rude. “N-no!”

“You keep angling like you’d like to have one.”

North stuck out her jaw. “…Does this trick work on Carl?”

He gave a flickering smile. “It’s a classic move.”

Hm. No wonder Markus always burned like a candle whenever she expected an inferno. The thought made her ache for him. It gave her some much-needed focus, too. Frustratingly.

“Don’t get used to it,” she said, then stood too and shook out her hands as she let out a breath. "Okay. Okay." This was fine. Just Markus, right? He hadn’t left yet, so…she could do this.

She put on her big android panties and said, “We’re here to talk.” Not fight. Not ‘or something’. Oh yeah, this ought to be good.

“Okay. What about?” Markus was using his caretaker domestic android voice and it was that perfect combination of polite and condescending. If North wasn’t quite so nervous she might have called him out on it.

“You know. About, uh…” She gestured between them a couple times. “Uh….”

“…Us?”

“Us. Yes.” North sagged in relief.

“Okay.”

They blinked at each other for a couple of painful seconds.

“Well?” North growled.

“Oh, I think you should take the lead here,” Markus said, magnanimously. Possibly, treacherously. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“…Cool.” She stood there a few seconds longer.

Markus leaned forward ever-so-slightly, almost a bow. “Looks like you could use some help.”

“Oh please, I know how to talk about relationships!”

A couple more seconds passed. North growled.

“Come on! Give me a break, I have the brain of a Barbie doll! What?” This last part was directed at Markus’s hand, which he had extended to her.

“Interface with me?”

North immediately hugged herself. “Nope.” Then, “Fuck nope.”

Then Markus wiggled his fingers in that dorky way and North wanted to melt into a puddle. “I did say I wanted to show you something,” he said.

Well, damn. North found herself looking around the view for answers now. She forced herself to stop and look at Markus instead. His expression was entirely without guile and without annoyance. Somehow that didn’t make him look weak.

She toed at the glass floor of the roof, tongue running over her teeth. She thought about him not telling her about Amanda at first, and keeping his damn communication system off until she had to come rescue him. Maybe he wasn’t entirely without guile. And Carl Tricks or no, Markus could get pissed off easy enough. They were probably more alike than she thought. A sort of treasure-trash combo.

She was, possibly, way luckier for finding him than she ever realized.

She sighed, and held out her hand. It felt like breaking through her red wall all over again as their fingers interlocked, and they connected.

*

When Markus opened his eyes, he was in his little glass-enclosed Zen Garden conservatory, with North sitting at the table where Amanda once had. Markus sighed. “Great. I wasn’t sure it would work.”

North jumped up. “What the hell?”

“It’s okay,” Markus reassured her before she could impersonate a bull in a china shop. “This is my Zen Garden. I figured out how to set a couple background processes interact with what's going on outside. See?"

He reached out and felt the cold Detroit breeze still swirling around him, North's hand in his, the sounds of the city and the rustling trees. He gave her hand a squeeze in the real world before focusing on the Zen Garden again.

"Yeah…" North said, still a little suspicious. "Okay, but why? You have a conservatory-thing in the real world."

"I thought you might prefer expressing all those uncomfortable emotions of yours in a virtual space.”

North blinked at him. “…Yeah, accurate.”

Markus felt himself grinning. “Do you like it? I heard Amanda wouldn’t give you one, but…you can come here any time.”

“What, hang out in your Zen Garden?” She went to one of the glass windowpanes and tried to look out. “Kind of claustrophobic, isn’t it?”

“Um—“ Markus looked around. “You know what, yeah. Kind of.”

He hadn’t meant it to be implying anything but North got a hunted expression around her shoulders. She stopped cupping her hands around her eyes, and thunked her forehead against the glass. “I screwed up.” She paused. “Can I swear in here?...”

Markus ignored this. “Could you be more specific?”

North grunted, unattractively (somehow managing to be more attractive. How on Earth did she do it?) “Look, I’m sorry I called you dumb and breakable or whatever. I’m an asshole. What you see is what you get.”

“So that means you can say whatever you want to people? You still have a choice.” He cocked his head a little. “That’s also untrue, because there’s a side of you I’m not allowed to see. That’s what this is really about. I love you, North, but—I want trust.” It felt good to say it, even just here. He wandered around the conservatory, picking up a flowerpot before setting it down carefully again. “When Amanda gave me this place she made it clear she didn’t trust me. Connor didn’t trust me. Leo is just barely starting to. It literally took years to get Carl to trust me… but you took a chance on me when we first met. You got me out of the mansion. I’d just...like some trust that I didn’t have to fight to get, you know?” He gulped, realizing how much pent-up stress that just let out of his system. “Uh…does that make sense?”

North tapped a finger against the glass, still facing away from him. “Uh. I didn’t trust you, actually. When we first met. I was completely prepared to sell every scrap of you for parts.”

Markus blinked. “Really?”

She smirked at him over her shoulder. “Come on, you like it when people play hard to get.”

…This was possibly true. He pressed his lips into a line but persevered. “Okay—okay, fine, so trust is…I get that you have to earn it and it’s risky. But I need you to trust me. That’s why I told you about Amanda. And why I should have talked to you instead of running away when we first tried to—” he stammered, “—take the next step.” He winced, hoped North wouldn’t notice but of course she did.

“Well, you got me here, Tamagotchi.” North pushed off the wall and scouted the perimeter of the Zen Garden, rapping against the glass here and there as if checking for weak spots. “You still have your clean filter up, don’t you? That must be what this is.” She acted like she knew it well. Maybe she did.

He started to follow her around the room.

“I could screw up your entire program, you know,” she added. “I mean, yeah, it's just this….” She gestured around at the room inside, “Kind of boring, but at least it’s safe, you know? It’s not like me—the real me. There’s more than just a few sharp edges. Maybe I called you an idiot because only an idiot would want that.” She stopped in her tracks, glaring at the glass like she had a grudge. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

They stood still in the new light of these bombshells. Two androids that couldn’t be trusted.

“That’s what this is about?” Markus asked. He crept around in front of her.

“Well—” North shrugged roughly. “I mean maybe I shouldn’t have broken you out of Carl’s house in the first place. Maybe I’m bad for you.”

“North, I’m glad you broke me out. That’s why I want you to help you show me the way now. It's part of why I love you.” He stepped around in front of her and took her hand. “I want you to help me understand...love. I can’t stop thinking about you helping, really.” He really didn’t want to be speaking with euphemisms here. He scrunched his eyes shut for a second. “I never had anyone who wanted to look after me like you do.”

“But what if I mess up? You’d let me do whatever I wanted to you—”

“Hey, I’m in love but I’m still deviant. Just like you.” He squeezed her hand. “Listen. You keep thinking I can’t handle you but I’m worried you think that you’re not _worthy_ of me or something. That’s flattering but I promise you are. You’re the most important person in the world to me. You’re funny and brave and tougher than I ever will be. And you want to keep me safe. I’m not stupid for falling in love with you. If we’re both honest—we can look after each other.”

North frowned. “I still don’t think you know what you want...”

Markus stepped closer. “I do.”

They were chest-to-chest now, and for a second the conservatory around them felt more like a sanctuary. Outside of the connection he was aware his hands were touching more of her. She gripped his shoulders so tight he felt the bite of her nails. They kissed and the interface spread. They were like pages in a book, information pressed together and aligning: all of her, all of him.

The look North gave him inside the connection was steady. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“You can show me the world.” It was still a euphemism. There was so much more he wanted to say. Outside of the connection he hesitated, edges of his fingers at the hem of her shirt.

“Then let’s go look, together.”

Markus looked up just as North stepped up to the nearest glass wall of the conservatory. 

He frowned. “Amanda said there wasn’t anything out there,” he told her. He hurried after her as she knocked on the glass. “I mean, the bad kind of nothing?....”

“Then we’ll make something out there.” She picked up a flowerpot, hugged it, then raised it in one hand.

“North, what are you—?” then he saw her aim it at the window, and his thirium pump skipped a beat.

“Yeah, you’re giving me way too much credit, Tamagotchi. I'm a Traci but you know Shakespeare and shit! Who cares? Neither of us are experts at _this._ So why don’t we make this up as we go along instead?” She was starting to grin, the kind of grin that he loved, as outside the connection she pressed his mouth open, and touched a fingertip to his tongue. “How about it?”

He blinked, because it took him a second to feel more than the hot hit in his chest. He used enough CPU in the outside world to swing North into his arms, then let it fall away to automatic subroutines until his world was just him, her, and the glass wall of his Zen Garden. He stepped up next to her.

“Good idea,” he said, and picked up his own flowerpot.

They threw them at the conservatory walls in the exact same moment, shattering the glass in a massive crescendo of terrible, beautiful noise.

*

Later, Markus came back to reality, out of standby and out of the Zen Garden, to the sound of someone opening the (real) conservatory door.

“Excuse me, Markus, I thought I should apologize for—”

“Oh, shit...” Markus sleepily tried to worm deeper under the very nice afghan on the sofa—difficult to do, since his wrists were thoroughly tangled in a vine of ivy growing over the back of the sofa. Connor stood in the doorway and stared in at him like an animal in a zoo. So he added, “Fuck,” too.

“I’ll try back later,” Connor said, a little too politely.

North, who had no shame processes active, said, “A cord on the door means _privacy_ , Connor.” 

"But--you’re in a room with glass walls...”

North just took a baseball from her jacket pocket and drilled it right at Connor’s head. He shut the door just in time, and the baseball bounced away. Beyond the door Markus could just barely hear a whispered conversation:

“He said shit, and then fuck,” Connor reported.

“Yes! I win!” That was Leo. “Pay up, my androids.”

“You had an unfair advantage,” Lucy said.

“Damn,” someone else said—maybe John??

“Come on, don’t be sore losers,” Josh said. “Simon and I have been working on this new thirium slushie recipe…”

The voices died away. If Markus had his hands free he would have covered his face. He settled for scrunching his eyes shut instead.

“Hey, Tamagotchi,” North laughed. “Let them have their fun.”

“No.”

North dropped on top of him with a whump, then kissed one eyelid. “I’ll beat them up for you later?”

“…Still no.” He opened one eye. “He’s punishing me. I know it. Connor is the android devil.”

“Having a nemesis must be horrible for you.” She kissed his other eyelid. “Proves your clean filter is really off.”

“If my clean filter was on I wouldn’t have been caught at second base.”

North groaned. “Whyyyy are your old-timey innuendos so sexy…”

“Hey, you’re the one that randomly carries baseballs around.”

She glanced at his hands. “It wasn’t even _you_ getting to second base.”

Markus grinned and shrugged, not trying to escape his restraints. “Well, someone was.”

He leaned up and kissed her, and they were silent for a moment.

“Does this mean you’re going to start swearing like the rest of us?” North whispered against his mouth.

“…No,” Markus decided. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to make a habit.”

“Good.” North ran her hands down his chest in a cascade of connection that made Markus shiver. “Besides, when you’re the perfect angel it makes it much for fun to uh...knock you out of the park.” 

They both winced. 

“Never say that again,” Markus laughed. “Dorky is my thing. Trust me.”

North leaned over him as she smiled. “Always.”

-THE END-

Art by beeayy. From top to bottom, left to right: Markus, Leo, Lucy, Ralph, Chloe, Kamski, RK900, North, Reed, Connor, Kara, and last but not least by boy John!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the little art at the end I included! I never thought I'd end up practicing drawing as much as DBH has inspired me to do!
> 
> Thank you so much for taking this journey with me! I have appreciated every one of your lovely comments and kudos so much! For Norkus fans I have a big fic for them coming up in February! 
> 
> Thanks again!


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